


Dragon!Dean is still scared of heights

by wolfie180g



Series: Dragon Dean series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Animal Dean, Animal Death, Animal Transformation, Art, Awesome Bobby, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Cages, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Consensual Sex, Crack and Angst, Creature Dean, Don't Judge Me, Dragon Dean, Dragon Dean Winchester, Dragon Temper Tantrum, Dragons, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Humor, G/T, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Its actually a good fic, Kink, M/M, Modern Era, Monster Dean, Monsters, Oral Sex, People taste good to dragons, Pictures, Scientist Balthazar, Scientist Castiel, Sex, Sex with Sentient Animals, Shrinking, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Smut, So it's ok, TINY - Freeform, Then you're all good, Tortured Dean, Vore, Weirdness, Wing Kink, Yup it's exactly 500000 words. For reasons lol, but if not, dragon - Freeform, i just have to inform about sexy times, mental shifts, not a medieval fantasy! Sorry to disappoint, skip all of chap 24 and begining of 33 till the middle, tiny!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 500,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie180g/pseuds/wolfie180g
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are after a monster who is taking women from the woods but it turns out to be something a lot bigger and more medieval then your average monster. When the two hunters split up to take on two problems at once, a nest full of twitching dragon eggs and the huge fire breathing mother, things go from bad to worse as the big momma dragon decides to turn Dean into one too!<br/>After weeks Sam and Bobby finally find a green eyed surprise waiting for them at the new nest site.<br/>From events in chapter 16 : “He was quite startled to find out he was a dragon.” Castiel added.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll be right back, Sam. Pinky swear.

**Author's Note:**

> The POV changes often but it should be pretty easy to follow.  
> This is my very first fanfic and I hope you enjoy the ride!  
> unbeta-d so all typo's are mine. feel free to point them out and I will fix them asap!  
> Lemme know if you have any questions or what you think :)  
> There is now a sequel!  
> 

* * *

Chapter One:

I'll be right back, Sam. Pinky swear.

 

   “Ok, so get this. Three young women were kidnapped from the small town of Freedersville just a few days ago. Two of them were hiking or jogging close to the huge wooded area to the north of town and the third was taken when she was passing through in her car. The car was found abandoned by the side of the road, apparently it crashed into a tree and she was nowhere to be found.”

   “Disappeared without a trace in the woods? Could be anything, Sam.” Dean shrugged, sniffing a shirt to see how many more days he could wear it before washing it. Two.

   “Yeah, but they found a few tracks, huge clawed feet. The locals are calling it a hoax.”

   “That sounds like something Tom, Dick and or Harry would come up with. Anything about the vics that they have in common besides doing the mamba with bigfoot?”

   “Well, all were mothers, but not pregnant. Young, healthy, between the ages of 23 and 30.” Sam scrolled down further on the page. “The police have no leads and no witnesses and only a thin theory that a serial killer did it and his calling card is large clawed tracks.”

   “Any pictures of the footprints?”

   “No such luck, the police said if they release the photos then copycats are gonna go out and plant more of them everywhere. So far it's the only lead they have to catch the kidnapper. Or murderer.” Sam grimaced.

   “Alright so Feds? Wildlife?”

   “Uhhh, dealer's choice.”

   “Bikini inspectors it is.” Dean gave his younger but taller brother a lopsided smirk as Sam went to his suitcase for the Fed suit.

   A full day of interviews and 3 tearful families later, they finally have an idea what they're up against.

   “Man I hate Vellum's. Not the parchment paper crap, the monster. Always killing first, eating second, with more killing later. We'll be lucky if anyone in this town is left alive a year from now. And they are damned hard to catch too! Give me a Windigo over these bastards.”

   “So far, Bobby and I think it's just the one. But it's probably gonna start going after anyone leaving the town going north. They are viciously territorial.”

   “Yeah, I hear ya. Alright, you got the ram's blood and coral?”

   “Not yet, gotta find out the closest sheep farm.” Sam sighed heavily. In this area, sheep weren't all that common. “Or a slaughterhouse I guess.”

   “Bleck. Why can't these things just die by the normal things? No it's always gotta be, the golden tipped arrow from some Mesopotamian city, or my favorite, when we had to find a perfectly round stone with a hole in the center that was not carved by human hands or cut using sharp things. I mean, are you kidding me?! Nothing in nature is perfectly _anything_!”

   “Just be glad we actually found one before any more kids were taken.”

   “Heh, yeah, from Ebay of all places.” Dean scoffed.

   “I just thank God there are still some old Tibetan Monks are so patient they put stones in that circular contraption that made water and sediment carve out the center with individual drops of water, and the edges ground down into a round shape with a swirling bowl, forcing sediment heavy water around it until it made a perfect circle. It takes them 10 years to make one round rock with a hole in the center. They use it in some ancient practices for concentrating the Earth's energy. Historians found the links to the stones found from Tibet. Middle or Late Phase of Neolithic age -”

   “Alright, alright Mr. Peabody. We gonna go hunting tonight or you just wanna wag that college education at me? You went to _Law school_ , you didn't study under Professor Indiana Jones.”

   Sam sent a bitchface at him that could melt steel, his studies weren't so limited to only Law and his older brother knew it. Hell, they both needed to know enough history to deal with some monsters whose origins came from _pre_ history. “Jerk.”

   “Bitch.”

 

   “That is not a Vellum track.”

   “Uhhh.... yeah. I got nothin'.” Sam shrugged.

   They stood around the few _huge_ four toed tracks in the mud where the mystery monster took a drink from a small stream. The woods looming overhead and swaying slightly in a breeze that filtered through the trees.

   “So we got ram's blood tipped coral bullets, which, might I add, was a complete BITCH to make into bullets without the coral crumbling. And the thing we are currently ass deep in the woods looking for is definitely NOT a Vellum.”

   Sam shrugged again weakly. “Sorry?” he caught up to Dean who strode angrily away. “Hey! Bobby said it reeked of Vellum too! Three healthy mothers, the woods. No bodies.”

   “Ok alright. But now what are we gonna do, besides the bear rifles, my gun, couple of knives and the coral bullet gun you've got, we don't have a whole hell of a lot to defend ourselves against _that!_ ” He motioned to the huge prints again. Whatever made them must be at least over 15 feet tall. Massively huge and heavy judging by the depth and the claws must have been long and curved for just the ends to be in the mud.

   “Ok, I'm gonna get some photos, send them to Bobby and we will figure out what this is. We can come back later with, I dunno, a hunter army.” Sam said, taking some snapshots. “Put your hand next to it so I have a frame of reference for size.”

   Dean sighed but stuck his hand down. His whole hand was only as big as the last thumb joint. “Damn.”

   On their way back towards the car they decided to walk towards the spot where the car accident was again, looking for more clues. Since they were heading towards the lone road via woods, they noticed burn marks on the trees high up off the ground and when they got closer noticed the burnt remains of a woman's cloths. An obvious scuffle happened around the area and the brothers were surprised that the police hadn’t seen this before.

   “This was the last victim's. She was wearing this. No blood though. What burns tree's and cloths?” Sam asked, poking around the area with a stick. “Usually monsters just eat and run, not bother burning evidence. Maybe that's why we haven’t heard of this thing. It covers its tracks.”

    “Yeah right, not very well since we found them all over that stream and the around her car.”

    Sam only half heard what Dean was saying, since they had assumed it was a Vellum Sam hadn't bothered seeing if this was a pattern. Vellum attacks were nearly always random, no schedule or pattern. Just that they were territorial as all hell and if one had claimed these woods anyone going into them would die if they were alone. He stopped in a clearing to get a slightly better signal and searched the web for reports of missing people in the past in this area.

    “Bingo.”

    “Got its name-o?” Dean came back over from scouting out the area, making sure that Bigfoot didn’t attack his Sasquatch.

    “Yeah. About every 50 years or so 6 people go missing. Three females and three males. All under the age of 35 or so, but past their teens. Let's see... fifty years ago in the late 60's, lots of young men were dodging the draft and they assumed that the missing women were the girlfriends. That’s why they weren’t reported as missing. Everyone assumed they just moved to Canada or Mexico. If they tried finding them again they'd be shipped overseas. It was best to stay hidden, the families figured.” More clicks of the phone.

    Dean took another assessing look around quickly. “So what, this thing is how old?”

    “Uhhh.... very. First records indicate a Thunderbird like beast.”

    “Thunderbird? Really? But they are like spirits more then flesh and blood.” Dean said, looking upwards anyway.

    “Not a literal Thunderbird. Uhh. Something huge with wings and likes to eat people whole.”

    Dean and Sam looked at each other. “No. Can't be. They only go after virgins and gold. No jewelry store robberies around here. The only thing the locals reported wrong was the three missing baby momma's and some large helicopters in the area. Seems like big brother is doing something close-by but they aren’t in the sharing and caring mood to throw us a bone.”

    “Come on. Let's get back before it gets too dark. I don't want to meet up with whatever this is at night.”

    They set off back towards the impala but see a massive black shape fly over the tree tops. After a few moments of heated eye conversation, they decide to follow on foot. Just to get a look at what they’re gonna have to come back and kill. They heard an animal screech to their left and a mighty roar following that and immediately shot off in that direction, finding a blaze in a clearing with presumably the same huge mass of black creature, hunched nearby. It seemed to be the cause of the fire and whatever had died was at the center of it. On their way over to the blaze Sam had accidentally stumbled upon a thick nest of brambles sheltered by a rocky overhang. He nearly fell off of the small cliff into the nest himself where three rather large leathery oval shapes were nestled in soft grasses and small twigs. Each one about three feet long and their rough shells perfectly camouflaged them in the nest.

    “I think we found its nest.” Sam whispered to Dean so as not to alert the thing that was presumably the mother or father of the eggs. It was still roughly 400 feet away and not paying attention to the brothers at all at the nest site.

    Dean grimaced at it. The eggs were huge! And one was actually starting to twitch.

    “Oh shit. Sammy! You scramble the eggs, I'll get big momma over there.”

    “What?! No! These can wait, no way in hell am I letting you go after her alone. She's huge! And we don’t even know _what_ she is!”

    “Her back..., is that her back? Yeah her back is turned and she's dealing with Bambi over there. I'll just empty a clip into her melon and I'll be right back, Sam. Pinky swear.”

    “No! These can wai....” Sam gestured to the eggs as two were twitching and the third was probably soon to follow. He had no idea if the babies would be self sufficient or not but having one mobile enemy to deal with at a time was enough. Dean, meanwhile, slunk off into the woods, making a large arch around the nearly black beast that was still preoccupied with apparently cooking its meal. He found a good spot to hunker down to take his shot, away from the nest and Sam should it try to chase after him.

    He readied his rifle and fired at the back of her head in quick succession 4 times. The bullets ricocheted off of her horns and thick skull and _holy hell_ those are fucking wicked looking horns! Shit! Worst idea in the history of his worst ideas. By far, hands down. _Fuck_! Her head spun around and she immediately unfolded her massive black bat-like wings.

    “Oh _shit_.” Dean muttered quietly as it scanned the area and he readied his bear rifle again. Heart hammering in his chest and breathing far from calm and controlled.

    The thing suddenly crouched down and lowered its head to the ground and stayed deathly still. Dean was impressed that it could crouch so low, almost under 5 feet and hidden behind the undergrowth of the woods. When it was standing upright on four tree trunk sized legs, it must have been at least 20 feet tall at the shoulder and its neck was even longer. The eyes glinted in the firelight off to its right and Dean aimed for the space between, putting the next round in the chamber which it expelled almost immediately along with several others.

    She heard the first click and saw the flash from the dead fall. There.

    After the last report of the rifle's now emptied clip, Dean had no chance of reloading before the night got even darker around him and the wind picked up suddenly in gusts that pulsed all around him. He had just enough time to shoot his head up to see huge hand shove him down backwards. He felt his handgun dig into his lower back as she ground him into the dirt for a few seconds. When her clawed fingers tightened around him he couldn’t breath or call out a warning. She flipped her hand around to inspect her catch and Dean saw the ground some 5 feet down as she sniffed at his head and back, then feet and returned to his head again. He was dizzy from the twisting and flipping she was doing to him as she smelled him all over. “Sa-hamm!” He barely called as one digit loosened just enough to give him a gasp before gripping him again. The next thing he saw was massive yellow fangs descend all around him.

   The ground fell away further and he was tossed into the air for a brief moment as the jaw got even wider. He yelped as gravity found him once more and the teeth closed around him again, almost gently, and held him tight but not yet puncturing his skin. She swiveled her head towards her nest and a surprised cry left her mouth, around the obstruction that was Dean, towards her nest.

   Sam wasted no time when he saw Dean's position being made. He had been working with his machete, silently hacking away at the egg shells but now quickly switched to his gun to shoot the insides until faint cries were heard and blood ran down the sides. Sam quickly reloaded as the sound of an incredibly loud distressed roar came from Dean's position.

    “SAMMY! Run!” Dean screamed as the beast raised its head and growled around Dean. But, instead of going after Sam like Dean had feared, it took off towards the sky, taking Dean with it. Two wing flaps, three, all the while clawed feet scramble up the huge trees, trying to find purchase to get enough height for flight.

    Vertigo set in immediately for Dean who was still surprisingly mostly unhurt inside the thing's mouth. His arm hurt like a bitch though because it was pinned behind its front canines in an awkward angle, forcing him to lay on his side, aimed outwards as it climbed clumsily into the air. His fear of heights was screaming at him as he was lifted higher and higher. Jolted around every second until the thing finally found clear air and leveled out into the dark night sky.

    Fear got the better of him and he didn’t know if he preferred looking into the panting maw behind him or the tree tops that flew by at breakneck speeds in front. Before they got too far he could hear Sam's calls and a few shots taken in his direction. One landed on the thing's hind leg and it only managed a grunt as its teeth bit down on Dean harder, drawing blood. He cried out in pain and hated being in such a vulnerable position. He reached for his knife that was still tucked into his boot but said boot was hanging over into the air hopelessly out of reach. The maw loosened around him for a second and Dean didn’t know if he'd prefer the security of a tight hold versus falling to his death. He grabbed two teeth as long as his hands and maneuvered a little in the space, quickly bringing up his left boot and scrabbling at the pocket knife. Too bad it wasn’t silver or anything special. The gun in his waistband was completely missing. Probably when he was smushed into the dirt. The knife was quickly opened and he started slashing at the gums and underside of the tongue at the more tender spots of the mouth.

    The reaction was immediate and the jaw dropped open, letting go completely of Dean, he grabbed onto the lower teeth for fear of falling. The mouth angled downward as it still flew on, but at a much slower pace. It jerked its mouth to the side and he lost his grip entirely. Going into a free fall nearly half a mile above ground.

    Dean finally saw the entirety of the beast and his brain had a hard time catching up around the thoughts of _'ohshitohshitohshit_ ' of falling through such incredible heights to see that it _was a fuckin dragon_ that had nearly made him lunch. It did a spiral downwards and flapped just twice to match Dean's speed. The air rushing past both of them howled in his ears as he kicked and clawed at the air uselessly as the ground was fast approaching. Then he saw movement in front of him and he looked into the monster's face not more then 5 feet away. The damned thing looked like it was giving Dean an ultimatum.

    It nodded at the ground and then cocked its head to the side, studying Dean's face.

    It must have seen it in his eyes, the abject terror of the ground and heights over being carried around, which wasn’t much better, but at least he had a chance of surviving the next 20 seconds or so. His hands betrayed him as he reached out for the thing's massive face.

    The damned dragon actually _smirked_!

    “What the _hell_?!” Dean shouted bewilderingly as it opened up its mouth, paused, snorted and then dipped lower into the fall so that Dean was level with its front paws. It reached out, easily snagging Dean's body from the air as an eagle would snag a fish from the water and eased out of the fall with a huge swoop of its wings.

    Dean was surprised as hell he wasn’t dead from the change of direction but the thing must know enough about fragile human bodies to bring it out of the fall without snapping Dean's neck, or spine, or sanity for that matter. Dean's torso and arms were gripped tight in one forepaw while the other held onto his legs. He was far more secured in its tight but oddly gentle grip. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but the mythical beast just kept on flying. Apparently giving up hope that its nest would be salvageable, it seemed to be searching for a different location nearby. It circled around and actually started to head back towards where Dean thought Sam was. He let out a relieved breath but chocked on it when the dragon dropped from the sky again towards a small ledge hanging off of a cliff. It hovered more or less around it, and Dean could see the gears turning inside its head.

    “Oh great, a smart monster.” he muttered angrily as it clearly inspected the 10 foot deep ledge before nodding its approval and unceremoniously dumping Dean off onto it. It scrambled a little on the rocks as it clung to the side of the cliff, dipping its head down to glare at Dean. It suddenly dropped down 20 feet, leaping sideways from the cliff to daintily perch near the tops of two huge nearby trees. The trees groaned and limbs snapped at the unexpected weight of the massive beast that clung to the both of them, trying to distribute its weight so the trees wouldn't fall.

   It sat and stared at Dean as he got to his feet unsteadily and glared right back. A full minute passed by as he mentally went over what he had on hand to get him out of this mess. 'Pocket knife. Salt. Lighter. Vial of holy water. Wallet. Phone, feels like it's busted in my pocket, pretty sure phones aren't supposed to make crunching noises. Sam must be shitting bricks right now. There's rocks, could throw them. Probably wont even make a dent. I could wait till it leaves and try climbing down...' a quick glance downward had his heart hammering in his chest. Too high, way too high. He swallowed around the acidic lump and the dragon perched across the way chuffed at him.

    “Are you.. are you fuckin _laughing_ at me?” he said incredulously at the thing. It chuffed louder and nodded its approval at the spot Dean occupied. Its head swooped forward suddenly in Dean's space and sniffed at him. He stumbled backwards and tripped over the rocky platform, landing on his ass. Its head was massive! It opened its mouth and a dim light was seen inside, sparking. Dean only had a second to realize what was going to happen before a small fire burst from its mouth, engulfing Dean's body in heat and flames. It stopped as soon as it started and Dean tore off his jacket and flaming jeans, tossing them to the side and even his undershirt was smoldering. He grudgingly tore that off as well and used his feet to stomp out the flames quickly as his ledge wasn’t big enough to escape them. His shoes caught on fire too! Damnitall! There goes his hopes of dying with at least his boots on. This stuff was like the acid for blood aliens that Ripley had to deal with. Whatever it touches burns. Sam would probably know what this crap was called.

    The dragon just sat and watched it all. Once the fires were out he jerked his head up again to see if his skin would be fried next. Remembering the burning buck in the woods Dean dreaded that the dragon just brought him hear to cook in a naturally formed stone oven. It didn’t move for a moment and merely looked downwards to Dean's undershorts. Apparently with distaste.

    “Whoa, whoa whoa, hey... I don’t think so Puff the pervy dragon. Not on the first date.” He covered up his boxers with both hands and shuffled awkwardly to the back wall of the covered ledge. “Winchester luck. I get the horny dragon. Can't just have a simple hunting case.. no... I have to get a real live fire breathing dragon that wants to get into my shorts without even buying me dinner first.” he grumbled to himself as the dragon simply looked on.

    He sat down behind the largest rocks he could find which weren’t that high and waited for it to make a move. It did, but not the one he was expecting. It lifted its huge wings and climbed into the air as quick as 3 tons of muscle and scales could, and headed out over the treetops, barely skimming them in places, Dean could just make out the glint of scale reflected in the crescent moon overhead. It blended in perfectly and soon he couldn’t see it at all.

    Dean wasted no time at all trying to find a way down or up from the ledge.

   Sam, meanwhile, had been searching the woods for any sign of the huge black thing in the sky. He'd lost sight of it soon after it took off but got to a clearing just as it dropped Dean from its mouth. His heart stopped as his brother fell to the earth. “ _No.._.” he whispered.

    The dragon spun and headed down after him and Sam wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He couldn’t see what happened next behind the trees but figured that at some point it would come back to the nest. It was his only hope of ever finding his brother again. There was no way in hell he could keep up with it as it flew maybe 60, 70 miles per hour away from him over the trees and cliffs. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to turn around and make his way back to the nest to finish the job. There was still evidence to get rid of and if any of the things had survived somehow they'd have more then just one fire breathing monster on their hands. The eggs were still and unmoving, blood seeping out of all three as he gathered more tinder for the nest. He had no desire to pull them out to inspect exactly what the hell they were. But, if they, or other hunters ran across their kind again he couldn't stand the guilt of missing the chance to learn all about them if it could save a life.

    That thing that took off sure looked like a dragon but that was impossible. He stood at the edge of the nest. Debating. Winchesters were no stranger to gore and entrails but that doesn’t mean that they particularly enjoyed sticking their hands elbow deep in the crap. After a heavy sigh he used his machete to cut open the third egg that had not been twitching. It was riddled with bullet holes like the others but remained otherwise intact. He let the creamy filling spill out, back stepping quickly to avoid wet jeans and let it drain as the figure inside was more visible. After a minute he glanced skyward again, keeping an eye out for the monster or Dean. Hoping his brother would come stumbling out of the woods with a smirk on his face and a story to tell.

    Nope. That's why it's Luck of the Dragon and not Luck of the Winchester.

    Sam grimaced as he reached into the deep brown leathery egg sack and grabbed a firm hold of an appendage. He pulled it out slowly and got a better grip as another limb was visible. He laid it out on a flat part of the ground and stood back from it. It was roughly human sized with 6 limbs including the wings, the hind legs a bit longer then the forelegs, and wings resembling raw chicken wings. No doubt they would have somehow formed those bat like wings later. Or perhaps feathers? Could that even be possible? A long thin tail ended with a tuft of spikes that were soft to the touch and as he broke one open his suspicions were confirmed that they were new feathers that hadn’t come out of the sheaths yet. It had a two foot long neck attached to an oversized head ending in a beak-like protrusion. It had a thick torso and narrow hips. The long head was proportional to a babies head to body ratio. It resembled a cross between a bird and that dragon and something else. But, since it wasn’t fully formed yet, there was no way of knowing what it would have looked like after it hatched.

    He himself had a hard thin line of lips that hid his distaste for seeing a deceased baby laid out before him. Never mind how monstrous it looked, it had never seen the sky or breathed air.

    Sam shook his head and flipped his brain over to look at it more critically. Scientifically. Detached. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures of it. Intending on sending them to Bobby to see if he could identify their mystery creature. Because no way in hell is he standing in front of a baby frickin' dragon. They'd fought dragons before. They were human shaped most of the time and they'd never really gotten a good look at them as they flew. That large one didn’t seem to be able to shape shift at all. The brothers had met their fair share of monsters and generally they tried to hide themselves by pretending to be human. A defense mechanism. This one didn’t even try. It probably couldn’t.

    It also didn't fit the lore on Dragons. And there was almost _too much lore_. No virgin sacrifices, no gold hoard, no deep dark cave. Maybe it just didn't find any around here... but surely there were better places to put a nest then on the ground with just a little rocky overhang? Any predator could come by... course, even the newborns were bigger then wolves, cougars... and their mother close at hand. It would be dumb as hell to attack the nest. Dean ended up paying for the lack of planning.

    Sam shook his head to clear it and wiped his face off with a sleeve of his flannel overshirt. Focus. That is how you save lives. Research. If they'd done better research, known what they were really up against. Dean would still be here. Posing for a victory photo standing one foot on the bitch's horned head. No. That's not really his style. His older brother doesn't like to gloat or take trophies of his kills. Just doing a job. And they really screwed up this job. No! Focus! She could be back any second. This new info he's gathering is very important on the unidentified beast it could save Dean's life and others.

    As he dissected the specimen he had to keep himself from vomiting at the smell that escaped from behind its jaw. Some kind of chemical reaction spilled out onto the twigs and tinder and suddenly Sam found he was standing in the middle of a smoldering fire. The fire spread through the body of the thing and soon the whole thing was alight and the fire spread through the twigs and dried grass to the other eggs. Sam had just enough presence of mind to run his ass away from there as the whole thing was engulfed in flames quicker then he thought was possible.

    So much for taking home a sample. Even though the evidence was mostly gone, he was grateful that it did his job for him. He couldn’t just leave it for the locals to find. He kicked a dirt ring around the edges of the fire, trying to contain it before the whole forest was alight.

    No more then one minute later he felt a huge rush of air move past him and he ducked for cover as the massive beast descended onto the area. It actually stuck its nose into the fire and made a long pitiful moan before removing its head and sighing heavily. Sam almost felt pity for it but shoved that aside because the fact that it had returned without his brother was first and foremost his concern. Dean wasn’t _visible_ but it didn’t mean he wasn’t _there_.

    Rage fueled him as he whipped both of his guns out and started opening fire at its head. “Where's my brother?!” He shouted as round after round dug into her head. At such close range each bullet hit and imbedded into her skin. She roared at him but couldn’t make him stop. The bullets struck but sadly not deep enough as she barreled forward with her forehead and horns, shoving him to the ground and pinning him there as she stood on the remains of her nest. A low threatening rumble shook his very body into the dirt and grass as he struggled to breath.

    “Dean... “ he groaned out, hoping that somehow his brother heard him inside the belly of the monster. His answer was the head lifting and the dragon squinting at him. A continuous growl emanated from it as he slowly slid his machete out from under his legs. He lifted it up and cut the side of her cheek with it before she lifted completely away. The cut was far too shallow so he swung his arm back for another blow. Cutting the underside of her jaw he swung back again and again, raging at the beast as she growled and whined. The cuts were still too shallow but bleed over his legs as he tried to squirm away while still hacking away at the thinner scales. She had had enough of this and lifted her head entirely out of his reach and angled it downwards. He could see the same kinds of sparks from the smaller ones ignite in the back of her throat. From this close up view he saw that it was two of her teeth grinding in the back that caused the sparks and a spray of something flammable coming from just behind it like an aerosol can. Before he could study the anatomy further, his instincts kicked in, thankfully, and he rolled out from under the blaze that lit the ground and very dirt underneath where he was seconds before.

    She looked down again and rumbled agitation at him and tried to shoot the flames again but they were no longer as strong.

    “You’re out?” he said bewildered at her as he easily sidestepped the 8 foot stream that dripped more then shot out of her mouth.

    She growled at him again as he held up his machete. He would not go quietly and she'd have to get close to kill him or eat him.

    Sam hoped that it was the former _before_ the latter. His stomach dropped when he thought of that, still not seeing or hearing Dean anywhere. It didn’t stop him from calling out for his older brother over and over. He spotted something on her front foreleg claws and his heart stopped. It was a piece of Dean's shirt, just a scrap of it, but it had blood on it. “You _Bitch_!” he shouted and lunged forward with his blade, hacking at her forelegs and underbelly. The move was so unexpected to her that she backed up from the blade and wild man that wielded it. A small part of Sam's mind registered that no human would ever attack a fuckin' dragon with the equivalent of a kitchen knife, so she didn't know how to react. Sam prided himself on this knee jerk reaction as he focused on cutting her throat, or at least the part he could reach. He was too close to her for her to angle her head to bite him. She lifted her wings, beat them twice to get height and brought her forelegs down square on his chest and waist.

    He felt like he was crushed like a bug under her weight. But, oddly enough, she might want him alive because although he must have cracked a rib or two, he could still breath under both of her forepaws. Each one at least 3 feet long base of the palm to tip of claws. He struggled and wiggled under her, hoping in vain to loosen her grip on him but she just chuffed at him and pressed harder downwards until he wheezed for air for a minute. She eyed him carefully and when it looked like he was going to pass out, she let up and stepped away from his prone form. She took several steps back and angled her head down to look him in the face. Sniffing at his long hair and grumbling low in her throat as if she simply disapproved of him rather then wanted him dead.

    He felt the weight lift from his chest but his eyes were still half closed. Fighting to breath but too weak to move. He was vaguely aware of a soft breeze by his face and a vibration surrounding him. One eye seemed to wanna cooperate and gazed at her snout no more then 6 inches from his chin. The analytical part of his brain happily cataloged away that her jaw must have the unlocking ability that snakes have and could easily fit his whole body inside her mouth with just his ankles and feet hanging out. His brain also noted that it was the perfect size for Dean's body. That woke up the rest of his brain and his eyes shot open and glared ferociously at her.

    She hummed back and lifted her head from him completely. There was an odd sound then, almost like a coughing bark from her before she backed up a few more steps to mourn the loss of her nest. She sat by it as Sam struggled to his elbows, still laying nearly flat on his back with his feet towards her. His head felt like it weighed 50 lbs but he still managed to roll it forward to see where she was and what she was doing. She lifted her right fore paw and brought over a few handfuls of dirt and ashes to cover the former nest. She shifted her weight to the other side and repeated the motion. He could hear faint coo's and chirps between the sorrowful moans. It reminded him of baby birds chirping for their parents. Noises that she wouldn't hear.

    Sam's jaw dropped and he felt sick to his stomach. She was burying her dead offspring. Through the whole silent moment, Sam felt tears prickling at his eyes but he dared not move. He was frozen stock still, staring at her as she continued to pile dirt and grasses over the place until every part that was burned was covered with foliage. One huge clawed paw rested on the mound before she looked up at Sam again. There was no hatred this time. Just sadness. She then turned and started to walk away.

    It took Sam at least a full minute of trying to process the event for him to get shakily to his feet. Stumbling after her. Guilt flooding his senses. She looked like a monster but she was clearly intelligent, with damn near human feelings and empathy. “Wait!” he called out, his left side was bruised and he would be sporting some interesting black, purple, and blue bruises all along that side where he felt his ribs shifting a little. He winced in pain but tried to ignore it as he shambled after her.

    “Wait! Where's my brother? Where's Dean? What the hell did you do to him?” he shouted to her retreating form. Her strides were far longer then his and she was quickly disappearing into the woods. Sam realized that she was probably too tired or emotionally drained to fly. He had a chance if only he could make his body listen to him and run after her. He looked back and cursed his stupidity for forgetting his machete back where he dropped it. He shook his head and made sure his cell was still in his pants. “Yes!” he cheered to himself and speed dialed Bobby.

    “Sergeant Hicks.” A familiar gruff voice answered.

    “Bobby! Bobby, we're in trouble. I need you to get a GPS location on my phone right the fuck now. I'm gonna loose her again in a minute.”

    “What? Loose who? I thought you were chasing a Vellum?”

    “No. No it's not a Vellum, its a fuckin medieval _dragon_ and it had kidnapped Dean!”

    “What? Ok, deep breath. Where are you?”

    “That’s why I called, my phone is a little banged up right now, the screen is too hard to read 'cause it's so cracked. I need you to trace my GPS location and Dean's.”

    “I’ll do Dean's first.”

    “Right. Yeah.” Sam's brain was running a mile a minute, almost as fast as his conversation with Bobby, telling him what happened. Somewhere in his rambling, he jolted to the fact that if Dean still had his phone he would have definitely called him up to say where he was. “No. Wait, that'll take too long Bobby, do mine and I’ll figure out a way to get it on her before she takes off again.” He tried to jog faster and it became slightly easier but his ribs were screaming at him to stop.

    She actually stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at him as he took that opportunity to catch up a little. She huffed at him in annoyance and looked skyward, it look like she was considering flying to loose this pest.

   “No wait! Don't fly off uhh err dragon- _ette_?” he said lamely as he looked up at her form as it paused to stare at him. He tried to seem as harmless as possible as he kept his pace, trying to catch up. She huffed again and grumbled something at him. Was she actually trying to talk to him? Was that what all the vocalizations were?

    “I can't understand you.” he said nearing her tail now, almost there. He looked at it suddenly whip back and forth in front of him. Warning to stay back. He stopped just shy and reached his empty hand out as it passed within inches of him. The other hand holding the phone firmly. On its return path she slowed it down so that it actually brushed his fingers lightly. Sam still winced, waiting for the lash, but nothing. The tail slowed to a stop and she furrowed her brow. She allowed him to get closer after an awkward moment of them standing silently in the woods, Sam facing her and she was facing forward towards where the woods would drop off into cliffs and deep trenches. Sam would have no hope of scaling any of them without climbing gear.

    Thankfully, Sam heard Bobby say, “Got you secured. Trying Dean's now.” through the phones tiny speaker. He left it on but put it in sleep mode. The tracking would still run so long as it wasn’t shut completely off but he didn’t want the dragon to do the dragon equivalent of butt dialing.

    He held it out in front of himself to show that it wasn’t large or intimidating. She cautiously walked forward two steps until she was right in front of him. He didn’t breath for a moment, or dare move. She waited for him to do something and just when it looked like she was bored and about to turn away he raised his eyebrows and moved the phone closer to her nose.

    He reached out his other hand and brushed it along her muzzle when she dipped down to smell the metal and plastic thing. Any other time he would be in awe at the trust she was giving him, knowing full well that he could wield things that could cut her thick hide. He didn’t have it on him now, but she wasn’t going to be fooled that he didn’t have some other weapon. She slowly breathed out through her nose at him, gauging his reaction. He wanted to sneeze a little or cough because her breath still contained lingering traces of that flammable accelerate. He settled for exhaling himself heavily. She seemed satisfied with this. Sam wondered if this was how her kind communicate. Growls and breaths. She dipped a few inches lower, as he reached up again to brush his fingers along her mouth. She pulled back for a second quizzically but leaned forward again, his touch didn't hurt this time like she was half expecting. Trying to figure him out the same time he was trying to figure her out.

    This bonding was all well and good but Dean was still missing and this thing is the only one who knows where he is, and she probably isn't in the talking mood. He dipped his empty hand into her mouth for a second and pulled it out again quickly, she opened it up wider, tonguing the inside of her mouth where he touched. Trying to figure out what he did. He had one goal in mind. He quickly pulled down her loose jaw, shoving his other hand deep inside and threw the phone to the back of her throat. She coughed, gagged and reeled back from him. He shoved off of her nose and fell back to the ground in the same moment so she wouldn't bite him on accident. He grunted in pain as his ribs were jostled into breaking fully. He couldn’t keep back the moan of white hot pain slicing its way down his chest and curled onto his side on the ground.

* * *

 

    Meanwhile the dragon's head shook back and forth and she gagged again, trying to bring up that rock he threw into her mouth but ended up swallowing it instead. It wasn’t big by any means but it puzzled her to no end why the hell he would feed her a rock. Maybe his kind ate rocks and that was a peace offering. She briefly wondered if she should feed him a rock as well. She startled back to the present as the biped was in apparent pain. She leaned forward and nuzzled his elbow, causing him to writhe around for a moment. She snorted at him and decided to just let it be. She had other things that needed attention now that her nest was truly a loss. With one last lingering look at that odd animal, she kept walking towards the edge of the cliff. Maybe she'll come back for this one later. She has his scent now so it shouldn’t be hard to find him again. Especially since he could only manage a hobble at best. He was still in her territory so therefore he belonged to her. Her claim was absolute.

    She got to the edge, gripped the rocks and stretched her wings out, giving a few test flaps before taking off. She swooped low into her valley, skimming just above the tree tops so as not to be seen by those noisy large metal things that have been flying around in her territory. Their wings were like a dragonfly’s but spun around so quickly they turned into a blur. Their bodies were huge compared to their dragonfly counterparts and made too much noise and sometimes glowed like lightning bugs. Too strange for words as she once saw them eat a few bipeds on the ground and then vomit them back again once it landed. She wanted to see more but they were too unknown and therefore dangerous. They invaded her territory often, looking at, but ignoring the burn marks she laid out to mark her lands' boarders. She wouldn’t leave her lands but they invaded her's regularly. She will just have to take one down to show she meant to defend what was her's. She just needed to study them, find out their weakness before attacking, like that moving blue shell beast that had a biped trapped in it. She had watched it growl continuously in her lands along that line of white rocks. That kind of challenge wont go unforgiven. She killed the blue shell beast and took the biped that was rightfully her's. But, perhaps, the other bipeds didn't know that they were trespassing too? Too low to the ground to see her burn marks? They should have known to look around for ownership marks though. Stupid things. They needed to be taken care of.

    She hated those growling shell beasts, but especially the loud metal dragonfly things with a passion. She hoped they left her biped alone.

* * *

 

   Dean had tried several times to assess how high up he was and if there was any way down. Nearly each time his vertigo and fear of heights kept his time at the edge to a few seconds of heart stopping terror. But, he did manage to make out that it was indeed hopeless. Unless he had suddenly sprouted wings, he was definitively not getting off of this ledge under his own power. He tried for the millionth time to get his busted phone to suddenly start working. Pleading to all manner of deity for the pieces to fit back together and bing back into life.

    He was interrupted from his task as a huge gust of air passed by his cliff face. Damn, she looked even bigger then before.

    “Stay back!” He warned, throwing a rock at her face. She opened her mouth and caught it in mid air. And then ate it.

    “What the hell?” he muttered as she seemed to show that she enjoyed eating that rock. Rolling around in her mouth in full view of him, and then swallowing with emphasized movements. Like a mother that enjoyed eating her children's kitchen concoction. She flapped twice more before landing awkwardly on the cliff face just below his ledge so that they were more or less eye to eye.

    She then picked up a smaller rock gingerly with her forked tongue and lifted her head to his. He backpedaled quickly, falling onto his ass as the head and tongue shoved the small rock at his mouth. He pursed his lips closed as the rock was shoved gently for her but bruisingly for him against his lips. It forced his head back till he was practically laying down, shaking it side to side as she finally stopped shoving and withdrew from his personal space. She looked sad.

    “What the hell are you doing? I don't eat rocks! Why the fuck are you trying to feed me rocks?” Dean asked, flabbergasted. Of all the things he expected a dragon to do, feed him rocks was far far from that list. “Do you eat rocks?”

    She ignored him and was searching for, of all things, a different rock.

    “No, its not the type of rock that I don't eat! How the hell do I explain this...” he muttered to himself. He looked around and picked one up, getting back to his feet he waved it at her to get her attention. She looked up as she held a smaller pebble in her forked tongue. It was black and had some dirt clinging to it. She was looking hopeful. How the hell is this dragon able to look 'hopeful'.

    He waved it again, she nodded acknowledgment that he had her attention. He sighed, resigned, and put it in his mouth, then made a show of spitting it back up, and rubbing his 'sore' stomach. “See? I don't like rocks. Now if you had a cheeseburger or some pie hidden somewhere. I'm all ears.”

    She looked down at his discarded rock and then back at him. She dropped the black rock next to it and cocked her head at him. “That's right, no rocks for the human.” he smiled at her. Maybe he was getting through to her and she'd suddenly decide to let him go. “So uh, since I'm pretty sure you don't have any people food, can you uh, get me somewhere where I can get some? Like say, oh I dunno, take me back to my brother?” He added after another head tilt, “ _please?_ ”

    She snorted at him and looked around for a moment more all around his ledge. She took one more look at him and climbed up. He nearly had a heart attack as her sheer mass scaled the cliff with ease, past his ledge and up and up till all he could see was the ends of her wings and tail drooping down. It waved back and forth and he pondered briefly if his fear of heights would allow him to cling to it like a rope as she climbed up to freedom.  
No such luck. She was apparently long enough that she didn’t have to go further to reach the top of the cliff to bring back some grasses and a sapling. She dropped down again to her previous spot, flapping occasionally for balance and spat out the plants at his feet. He gaped at them. “Uh, thanks? Getting closer I guess. But I don't eat grass or trees either.”

* * *

   When her biped refused to eat the plants as well, she was frustrated. What the hell did it eat? It didn’t have the natural weapons of claws and fangs to take down animals, and this male outright refused the peace offering of rocks that it and its litter mate had gifted her with. Maybe they don’t need to eat? Oh, well, that takes care of that then. Probably just lives on rainwater and sunshine like plants do. Such weird things. The other bipeds just screamed and wailed until she gave up trying to understand them. That shut them up easily enough. At least these two were more reasonable. If a little odd and contrary. Still, they are plenty good for her offspring.

* * *

   Her whole demeanor changed. He could tell she was frustrated at his lack of eating but he couldn’t just eat grass and tree leaves. He needed to get the hell out of here and find his brother before he was caught too. She seemed to be thinking about something then suddenly came to a stop. She opened up her mouth and came closer to him. His arms shot out in front of him trying to ward her back but she just clamped her snake like lips down on his hands up to his forearms and dragged him closer. He yelped in pain and she let go briefly as she climbed a little higher to get her hands or at least one hand into the action. She grabbed him carefully around his midsection and flipped her hand with him in it, lifted him up so that his feet were aimed towards her muzzle. He was on his back in her hand and she angled her neck and head backwards to line him up with her opened mouth. Giving him a straight shot into her mouth, no detours, deflections, or distractions.

   “No! _Nononno!_ You do _not_ want to eat me! Not a deer! I'm poisonous! Stop! No! I'll eat the plants if you want! I'll eat the fuckin' rocks too! _Just put me down!_ ” he cried and grunted, trying to squirm out from her tight grip of his midsection. Ropes, handcuffs, chains, choke holds, he could slip them all but how do you get out of a huge single _hand_? Suspending you helplessly over the ground and headed for certain death? He only had one arm free and he was punching lips, teeth, gums, tongue, anything to keep her from pushing him further into her gaping mouth. Saliva and thick ropes of drool looped and dangled down like spider web string all throughout the living cavern.

    Her thumb and first finger had his legs pinned together as they went in first and he could feel the slick wet squish of tongue slid up his toes, to his calves to his thighs, disappearing around his ass because of her fingers and his boxers but reappearing beneath his back as he was pushed further in. The warmth of her breath was all around him as the arch of teeth came up around his chest and then up over his head. She let go of his legs once they were firmly gripped into her throat by the back of her tongue and several other things that Dean had no hope of identifying, something was gripping him tight enough that he couldn’t move his feet at all and wondered how the hell she was still breathing and not gagging on his body intruding her mouth like that. Must be through her nose or something.

    The claws slipped out of the mouth, leaving Dean squirming and wriggling on her tongue. She didn’t close her mouth all the way just yet, leaving about 6 inches, which gave him a glimmer of hope. She then moved, the scenery outside of the maw changed and dropped down as she climbed up the rest of the way and settled on top of the cliff. He felt her grunts of exertion and sigh of content as she laid out and Dean could see tall grass just outside of the mouth. So freaking close but he couldn’t reach it at all, her muzzle was huge and he fit perfectly inside of it. The dragon must be laying down now, settling on the grass, the mouth closed a little bit more from gravity, tiredness or what, Dean didn't know. All the while a string of “ _nonono's_ ” left his own mouth as he pushed up on the roof of her mouth with both hands. Trying to brace himself against his tongue platform that just now relaxed too so he could no longer touch the top unless he sat upright and brushed it with his fingers. Not exactly like a hard palate like a humans, slightly more soft, flexible and ribbed. Her tongue lifted him up abruptly and forced him flat against the slightly curved roof of her mouth, bending him backwards into it as his soft flesh pressed along those ribs and the tongue rubbed him back and forth. It felt like he was being being dragged on a soft version of road bumps alerting drivers to an impeding stop sign. He switched from 'no's to 'stop's as his word of the day as she hummed with pleasure. Her hot tongue flattened wide and the sides curled up around his sides to cup him fully like a tight canoe. He could feel the undulating muscles underneath and the slimy finger sized tastebuds that were dragged along his bare skin. She was fuckin' _tasting_ him!

    Suddenly all those times he told fugly's 'eat me' just came crashing back on him and he regretted every single one. Saliva, or the dragon equivalent of saliva was seeping from the sides of her cheeks, the small holes in the roof of her mouth, dripping just about everywhere as she barely moved her head. Content to just rest it on the ground and savor her meal. Dean was grateful that at least she hadn't started chewing yet. She kept him more or less laying down instead of tumbling all over her mouth like a cloths dryer. He could feel those huge canines and front teeth graze by his spit slick hair every once in awhile. Forked tongue somehow flat at the back and tapering off towards the front to wrap itself around his neck. Not choking, but still heavy on his throat. The ends of the forked tongue licking small streaks against his neck and cheek up to his temple, tickling his ear before slipping one end inside. That got a reaction and he struggled harder. He did not giggle. He did _not_. It left his ear soon enough as he kept punched the sides of those sharp teeth on either side of him, then clawed at the gums and tried digging his fingers into the spot between the gums to irritate her into spitting him out like a corn kernel stuck in the molars. She grunted, air forced over him and he gagged on it. It was awful! Like rotting meat and sulfur.

    “You sure you're not a demon?” he yelled at her and then followed it with a “Christo!” just for good measure. No reaction. Shit. At least with demons he could exorcise it, cause it pain with some Latin words. But a mythical fire beast that's currently suckling him like a candy cane? Nope.

    After at least a minute of wriggling and struggling to free his feet from her throat, he stopped. He was tired and the fumes were getting to him. All he wanted to do was rest. She wasn’t gonna let go. But maybe she would just spit him back out again. After all, she didn’t eat him fully yet. Maybe she was just keeping him warm overnight? Like some fish keep their babies in their mouths to protect from predators. Yeah, that’s it. That’s what dragons do right? Maybe he's just over reacting to this and she's just making sure he's safely tucked in for the night. Not tasting him... protecting him...

    The other part of Dean's weary brain supplied him with the image of her nest of eggs and how wrong that theory was. Or maybe, (and really the maybe's were gonna kill him first before the dragon had a chance), but maybe she did this mouth holding thing to her babies after they were born and she was just following through with her motherly instincts. Like she thought Dean was her baby and was acting accordingly. “You eat all your kids, or is it just me?”

    And really, for last words, even Dean could see how stupid that was. But, oddly enough, it was not inaccurate.

    Her mouth was closing, lips pursing together slowly, cutting off his air supply so gradually that he didn’t even notice. The fumes she surrounded him with did their job and he felt himself drifting off.

    Movement around his feet got a glimmer of attention from him as he felt more then saw that his calves were also held tight. Then his thighs. He was slipping, slowly, gradually down deeper into her mouth. He couldn’t feel her canines at his head anymore. Everything was warm and squishy soft and tight. He was barely breathing but that was no concern anymore. Talking was too much work, and he was too tired to fight anymore. Really, the most disturbing thing about it was the sounds. The slick spit swallow that lubricated his passage. The moan of pleasure from all around him. Like the best tasting meal she ever had. 'At least someone is enjoying this.' He thought dryly. The heartbeat that wasn’t his own got louder and louder, the sounds of the thing breathing through a different air canal pissed him off a little because it meant that she didn’t have to stop swallowing him to breath. She was taking her sweet time killing him. His chest was now unseen through the throat muscles, constricting all around him. He couldn’t feel his feet anymore. Blood flow cut off for too long. Everything below his waist went numb. He wasn’t even sure if it was there anymore. Maybe it was digested already. He was just a head now. Oh and a hand. Nope. There it goes. Those weird muscles just sucked it down, he could feel it being pushed and moved to his chest. The other side mirroring the action. Like a mummy. Or a corpse. Thoughts became harder to comprehend, and he drifted down to blackness as one last push of the end of her tongue had him completely inside her throat.

    He could feel all of those neck muscles constricting and moving, like a snake but he was moving down instead of a snake being moved forwards. Once his neck was no longer gripped as tight, he could feel his body again. At least it was whole for now. Then his whole world shifted. His feet felt gravity again and he was no longer laying down but upright, sliding a little faster downwards. She had her head and neck stretched up as straight as it could be into the sky, so he had no hope of climbing out again. Not that he had much hope to begin with. The warm body around him shifted again and he felt pressure from the outside. Pushing him down. He felt it around his head, then chest to his waist and legs then feet. Then repeating again at his head. He was dimly aware of the fact that she was forcing him down faster with her hand around her neck. Some strangled cries were heard far above him as she opened her mouth again and air leaked in for just a moment. He took his final breath before the light dimmed and he was plunged through an opening to his left. It was a small space, like a sack, no bigger then a small bathtub but he somehow fit inside it, curled up, once the rest of his body joined his feet. One final shove was the last thing he felt as the opening closed again. The very last human thing he thought was that he was sorry he left his Sammy alone.

   Then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha! Evil cliffy! Don't worry, I already have the next chapter halfway done. Just got to polish it up. Please leave a comment or Kudos! (you can find me most places by my username, tumblr, etsy, deviantart, fanfiction.net(gonna have to post this there too tomorrow) ) Thanks!


	2. Does that thing have freckles?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally finds his brother, but can he still be called that?
> 
> Castiel's morning starts off with a cold bed and an empty house and Balthazar's message is really cutting his into his self pity time.

Chapter two:

Does that thing have freckles?

 

 

   Sam hunted around the forest for hours until it was too cold and too dark for him to see anymore. The moon had set and the ache in his bones forced him to rest against a tree. He slid down to sit at its base and stared off into nothingness for a long while. His mind not yet letting him sleep, though exhaustion pulled at his body. He lost him. He lost his brother. The only family he has left in this world is gone. He wouldn’t know what Bobby found out until he got back to civilization and a phone. Plenty of burners in the Impala. He just needed a quick rest then to find the Impala. Dean's car. His baby. Sam's car now if Dean doesn't.... _NO_. He will come back. Soon as he finds his older brother, they can get back to Saving people, hunting things. Like that bitch dragon. She's first on his hit wish list.

   Sam glanced around, only able to see trees for 30 feet out, nothing beyond. Vision was blurring already. Nothing to see anyway... He chuckled humorlessly to himself. He was alone in the middle of the woods with no weapon, no phone, hungry, tired, thirsty, broken ribs, cuts and bruises everywhere and very lost. Worst. Hunter. Ever.

   He fell asleep at some point, waking up at mid-day. His ribs still ached something terrible but he had to move or die here. His brother was counting on him. If he was even still alive. He checked his watch, 1 pm. The sun was over there to his left but didn’t trust the light dappling the trees for an accurate direction, thankfully he kept the watch that Dean bought him for his birthday last year with the hard earned pool hall money. It had a small compass underneath the clock face of the wristwatch. He found a general direction to go to find the road then from there he could find the Impala. He passed by a mulberry bush and ate his fill, alleviating some of the overnight hunger pangs but staining his hands and parts of his cloths blue. He tore off the sleeve of his undershirt, what was left after using most of it for his bandages, and wrapped more berries up in the new bag, tucking it into his belt for later if he couldn’t find food again. Thank God for layered flannel. On his walk he found a good sturdy stick and fastened a sharp stone to it using some strips of his shirt. Feeling for all the world like a caveman, he was at least armed with _something_. He longed for that machete, a gun, the Impala's trunk laden with weapons of all shapes and sizes in every sense of the word. He found another longer stick with a perfectly shaped u at the end, and used it like a crutch to help him walk. It was uncomfortable as all hell and he abandoned it soon enough.

   After another hour he found the road and surprisingly the Impala was only 5 minutes down. No backtracking needed. Small favors. He had to break the rear passenger's side window to get in because Dean had the keys and the spare was no longer behind the license plate. He didn’t remember removing it. Maybe it just fell out or Dean used it years ago and forgot to put it back. Well shit. Dean's gonna kill him for the busted glass. “Sorry.” he muttered to the car as he picked the broken shards free so he could unlock the door. He got in and nearly fell right back to sleep in the backseat which had been his only home growing up. No time for that. He unlocked the front passenger side door and got out two burner phones, finding Bobby's number, he dialed and waited.

   “Agent Hudson speaking.”

   “Bobby.” Sam sighed with relief at the familiar voice.

   “Sam? Are you ok?”

   “Yeah. Bobby, I made her eat the phone so wherever she goes, we'll know. Did you get a fix on its location?”

   A heavy sigh filled the speaker. Sam pushed it closer to his ear.

   “Bobby.” Sam said, practically pleading. His eyes felt hot and he wiped them fiercely. “ _Bobby_.”

   “It appears... that your dragon friend has excellent digestion.”

   Sam nearly threw his phone out the window in frustration and sadness. He put it to his ear again. “Did you get _anything_?”

   “I didn’t say I got nuthin'. Give me a secon'.” some papers were heard rustling. “The last known ping on the GPS puts it east of the road I'm guessing you took into the woods. A two lane gravel road heading north from Freedersville?”

   “Yeah, even Dean had trouble finding it. It's nameless.” Sam nodded to himself.

   “Ok, when it cut out, I'm assuming it was still flying east towards Harkade valley. That narrows it down a bit. Hopefully it didn’t veer off suddenly. But Sam. I gotta warn ya. Harkade valley isn’t just a valley.”

   “I know I know, there’s a bunch of cliffs and mountains, rocky landslides are a hazard out here. We will need some climbing gear. How soon can you get here?”

   “Now hold on a sec. I'm looking at maps here. There is no way the two of us can find him right now. It's been 15 hours since you last saw Eragon and I doubt she'll be easy to find. Gotta get some help in on this. Some hunter friends and I can be in Freedersville in 3 days. Find a hotel, heal up, get some supplies and sit your ass down and wait for us to get there. You'll be no help to Dean if you’re dead.”

   “But Bobby, he's out there. He's all alone with that monster. It's my fault, I should have helped him kill that bitch monster yesterday. It would be dead and then we both could have killed the babies then be home by now. It's all my fault.”

   “Sam.” Bobby said firmly into the phone. “Would Dean have let you help him if there was a chance those mini-monsters could get loose and spread out?” Bobby sighed, Winchesters could never forgive themselves. “How many babies were we talking about? This is the first I heard of them.”

   “Three. Bout the size of very large dogs with long necks and wings and long tail. Looked similar to their mother but one had feathers instead of scales. Wish I took more pictures before they went up in flames.”

   Bobby asked for more information and if Sam had any DNA sample at all. Sam saw some blood on his pants from the mother, amniotic-like fluid dried between the shoelaces, and socks had something on them too. Sam took them all off, putting them in a grocery bag in the backseat. Changing into his spare cloths from the backseat. Sam gave Bobby all the info he had and worked on a rough plan of action until his phone started to loose battery power.

   “Ok, you get to Freedersville and get that DNA tested. Don t care how you do it, but obviously keep it a secret. Find out if it matches the victims.”

   “What?”

   “Boy, I've been researching all night. And something tells me that we need to cross check this. Don't want to go into the gory details. Just get it done, get some rest in a hotel room and wait for us. See you soon, Son.”

   Sam could hear the affection in the gruff order and nodded, fighting back more tears. The phone cut out before he could end the  conversation properly, so he just put it away and hot wired the Impala. Sitting in it, he tried to see through the blurry windshield, wiping of his eyes the windshield cleared right up. The car was idling until he could steady his hands and turn it around back to town. Looking up at the sky for practically the whole trip.

 

* * *

 

 

   A week passed. Nothing. Bobby's friends were spread out all over the valley, in caves, cliffs, woods and everywhere. They were miles away from Harkade valley where the signal cut out and they started their search. Sam stuck to Bobby's side for the most part. Bobby did not want to leave the youngest Winchester alone. No telling what fool thing the boy would do in his grief. The hopes of finding Dean alive were dwindling by the day.

   Magic talking boards contacting the local dead girls, trying to hack into Sam's old phone again, and every tracking spell Bobby knew, didn’t work. Whatever was happening, Dean was completely off the radar. Magical and otherwise.

   Three more days passed and Bobby's friends had another local hunt to attend to. Werewolves only an hour's drive away. They left with apologies and swore they'd be back to help search but meanwhile there were helpless civilians that needed saving too.

   Bobby and Sam found themselves yet another week later, wandering around the next unexplored grid block that Sam had marked out as a potential space to find this dragon's nest.

   Finally.

   They almost stumbled right into it. A newish nest site which only had the remains of one egg in it. Leathery like Sam had recalled before. This one was half eaten. Completely empty. Bobby and Sam dared not make a sound as Sam pocketed part of the egg for later study. A snap of a twig was heard to their right. They froze instantly. Whatever made the noise chuffed once and more leaves crinkling was heard coming towards them. Bobby quietly hefted his gun to his shoulder while Sam was still struck dumb. The sounds halted and they both heard quiet snuffling, like it was sniffing the ground. It sounded like it was walking around behind their position, getting more agitated the closer it got to the path they walked in from. Sam turned slowly and saw a bit of leathery scales bob around and a small wing extend and flap slowly at the ground. Sam caught on that it was bringing the scents from the ground cover up to its nose, funneling it with its wings to sniff.

   The baby, well could it be called a baby? It was at least kid age, bobbed around the path they took, following it away from the two hunters. A louder sound startled the hunters, a deep grumbling far past the nest. The mother.

   The kid chirped at the mother to let her know where it was as it turned back around. Their eyes met and the kids chirp died out on its tongue. It turned around quickly and stared at Sam, Bobby, and then looked up to its mother. Fear was laced clearly across its face. It backed up a step or two, looking up at its mother and back to the hunters. A very very quiet cry was heard as it hunched down but not in a threatening manner. It was like it was being submissive. Or maybe it was trying to hide. Fat lot of good that did as it was about the size of a pony with thick legs, or a huge mastiff with a 15 foot wingspan. Not large enough to fly with, but still impressive. Its neck and freckled head lowered down all the way to the ground, wings not quite tucked helped it balance as it hunched lower. It looked up fearfully at the two men.

   Their attention was diverted back to the bigger problem as the mother chirped back once in response and moved on farther away from the nest and baby. The baby seemed to sigh in relief.

   What the hell? Shouldn’t it be calling its mother back for help? Running away? Attacking them?

   “ _What the hell?_ ” Bobby breathed. Sam smirked, his sentiments exactly. “I’ll go after the momma, you get the baby.”

   Sam whispered louder, “ _What? No! We did that last time, and Dean got taken away_!” The kid perked up its head again. Green eyes looking between the two. “ _I’m not leaving you to go after that thing by yourself. We take care of junior here, then go after the mom._ ”

   “ _You're actin' like an idjit! When the kid cries out that mom will know we are here and come charging at us instead of us sneaking up on it. You have to keep the kid busy and quiet while I kill the mom._ ”

   “ _No_!”

   “ _Yes, Sam_!”

   “Chirp!” the kid joined in, suddenly right freakin' there not five feet away from them. Both swung their guns around at it and it ducked immediately to the ground again. That fearful look in its eyes renewed tenfold.

   “ _Ain’t that somethin'_.” Bobby muttered, gun still trained on it. “ _How the hell does it know what a gun is?_ ”

   Sam stared at it, cocking his head to the side. Some gears clicking in his head about something Bobby found doing research. “ _What was it you were saying about the DNA from the eggs and the victims DNA?_ ”

   Bobby looked to Sam for a moment then back to the prone monster at their feet. “ _Some riddle or something. Don't know the whole thing but it was hinting at that sometimes when dragons get to be rare they can flip a switch in their bodies and whatever they eat whole and alive can_ become _the next offspring. It changes the DNA of the prey and adds another bit of random animal, for diversities sake, as well as its own DNA and creates baby dragons to repopulate their clan or herd or whatever. Dragons were always very rare and sometimes a female dragon couldn’t find a male dragon so it would_ make _one. Most times, it seems that it would make sets of offspring, this one started with three females and..._ ” he gestured to the kid, “ _one here as far as we know. Probably wanted to start small since the last full nest was destroyed. She probably was making a mate_.”

   The disgusted expression that Sam made mirrored the horror on Bobby's face as realization kicked in.

   “ _So...._ ” Sam said at length, looking down at the bashful kid, looking up with hope in its eyes. “ _Gonna take a shot in the dark here and say that this kid is a male?_ ”

   “ _Formerly human_ , _judging by its recognition to guns..._ ” Bobby added unwillingly. He had to swallow back bile.

   They both stared at the kid as it tentatively got to its feet and looked Sam in the eyes. Sam noticed that it had tiny brown dots lining its light brown scaly skin, like snakeskin, the dots heavy across its cheeks and long nose ridge. Nearly all of the top areas were a deep brown, fading lighter towards the underside and end of the long snout. Black back spines leading from the back of its neck all the way towards the end of its tail. Its wings were dappled like brown camouflaged lizard skin as well as the sides of its body and tail. The underside of the whole thing was a tan color that was spattered in freckles. He had round pupils in his wide moss green eyes, with flecks of gold, rimmed with black.

   Sam would know those eyes anywhere. He's grown up looking at them, seen them proud when he was happy and sad when he was hurt. They seemed so sad now, pleading, and worried. The kid nodded slightly.

   “ _Dean_?”

   A soft grumble chirp was his answer as the kid, no _Dean_ , shifted his gaze towards the mother dragon past Sam's shoulders. Sam reached out a hand and he heard Bobby take a sharp inhale of breath as Sam touched Dean's long nose. Dean startled for a bit as he ducked it down sharply and licked it with his long forked tongue. A move so un-Dean-like that it made Sam's gut clench. How much of his brother was left?

   The kid ruffled his wings and straightened up to his full height, at least 4 feet tall at the shoulder and 7 feet with his neck stretched up. It smirked down at Sam and bopped the top of Sam's head with the underside of its soft jaw. Petting him.

   Sam huffed a laugh, Dean was taller then Sam now and was showing off. He then nuzzled Sam's hair, breath puffing out the brown hair and sending shivers down Sam's spine. He then felt some lips and teeth chewing on it and pulled away slightly. “No, I'm not getting a haircut! Jerk!” getting a few inches of distance as Dean ducked back too with a mischievous smirk.

   “Chirrup!” Dean said back.

   Sam's heart stuttered. The realization that he would never hear his brother speak again made him stumble back a step. Dean was alive. But he was a monster. Not a _monster_ monster, but no doubt that Bobby's friends would kill him on sight. Oh God. Sam had killed the other eggs. Three victims abducted, three eggs. He fell to his hands and knees and shuffled over to the grassy area and threw up. Dean cringed back, scared of the sudden movement and worried it was his fault somehow. He kept backing up awkwardly on his four legs and his tail whipped back and forth. He kept making worried chirping noises and low grumbles at Sam who couldn’t look at the kid dragon anymore. Dean got down on his toes, knees and hands and elbows, shuffling closer to where Sam was also on knees and elbows, resting his hands on the back of his head and neck, looking for all the world like he was trying to hide.

   Bobby, meanwhile, was scanning the area, keeping an eye out for the mother. No sign yet, but no promises.

   “Sam, we aren’t safe here.”

   Dean looked up to the hunter and tilted his head, Bobby wondered if Dean was all there or if it was just bits and pieces. After a moment Dean gave a light headbutt to Sam's shoulder and snort/sneezed at the vomit. Sam nodded slowly and moved away from it, finally coming slowly back to reality. He sat down and Bobby crouched too to talk.

   “Sam, we can just take him and get out of here. Figure something out later. None of us are safe here.”

   Sam nodded, looking up at Dean who was also on the ground, the kid rested its head in his lap and licked at Sam's shirt. The kid cooed for a few seconds and nuzzled Sam again. Sam couldn’t help but compare this act like a dog. Maybe his brother was mixed with one as well as a dragon. Sam's head spun. He found his hands rubbing the bridge of the long slender nose and feeling out the two bumps along the back sides of the head. No doubt where horns are gonna sprout from. His head would probably look like an arrow when he matured more, wings filling out, muscles replacing the sinew he sported now. Dean is gonna be an impressive dragon. How big is he gonna get? How are they gonna protect him from hunters? How the hell are they gonna keep him safe? Fed? Sane?

   Bobby helped Sam to his feet and then patted Dean on the top of his head, running a thumb along the cheek scales. Dean leaned his head into it with eyes drooping in content. “Come on boy, gotta get you home.”

   The kid perked up and ran to the nest and sat down in the middle of it. Sam and Bobby looked on and gawped. Sam kept his voice down and put an arm out as invitation, “ _No, no Dean, you’re coming home. With us. Were gonna take you to Bobby's and figure out a way to fix you._ ”

   The kid grumbled and tilted its head again. It then scratched the back of its head with a fore paw, Sam glad it wasn’t a hind leg, and stared at them. It pointed with its nose at them then to the nest. It seemed happy for a moment then paused, the others didn’t look happy. The kid got out of the nest, went over to Sam and shoved him towards the nest and looked up to where the mother was rooting around just out of eyesight. Dean chirruped at his mother. She lifted her head.

   Sam immediately ducked out of sight and hid. Dean then scratched his head again and ruffled his wings around. He seemed to understand. Suddenly chirruping at an imaginary mouse that it was hunting, Dean scurried around the nest and pounced, bringing its nose down to the ground and eying Sam. With a jerk of his head he motioned for Sam to leave quickly. All while pretending to hunt and eat small critters.

   “ _Dean!_ ” Sam whispered urgently, “ _come on!_ ”

   Dean playfully ran from Sam and Bobby and joined up with his mother and led her off a little ways away. Sam and Bobby could hear them move, Dean jumping up onto his mother's back and biting at her wings harshly. The hunters saw a massive shadow shaking and jerking around over there and a few flaps to disentangle the rascal from her wings. He bounded off farther away and she chased after him for a moment, crashing through the smaller trees. He bit her harder and tore through a wing membrane. She hissed pain and gave a sharp fearsome warning growl at him. Dean 'obediently' went back to the nest and sulked for a second until the mother's attention went back to rooting around after flapping her wing experimentally. Not too damaged.

   Dean didn't want to hurt her, but knew that the two bipeds were scared of her. He then looked to short one and tall one, wondering why they didn’t want to be at home in the nest with him and Mother. All they had to do was let Mother swallow them and turn them into his litter mates. Then they'd be together and home in the woods. A part of him realized how messed up that was but the rest of him ignored it. It was _old_ him. He was new again. And his old litter mate was here and his old friend was here too, and being like this was awesome. He was stronger and would be the biggest thing ever. Maybe even bigger then Mother! He had a mother again, and she was _fireproof_! She couldn’t die in a fire, not like his first Mom. ' _Now Dean! Go!_ ' Dean dipped his head and looked at the tall one again. ' _I'm so proud of you, Sam._ ' Mom, blond hair, nice smile, talking to his litter mate long ago. He could have a mother again too.

   Why didn’t his litter mate want to join him?

   Something popped into Dean's head. _'I couldn't let Sam die, he's my Brother.'_ Oh, ok, brother. That is brother _Sam_. ' _and this is my brother, Sam_ '. He heard the same familiar voice echo. ' _Bobby, you're the closest thing I have to a father..._ ' and saw short biped there, Bobby. Bobby is dadfriend. Sam and Bobby. Family.

   Dean's head felt funny. That voice that followed him around his whole old life. He kept hearing it from time to time. Bits of biped words in-between the more normal growl talk. Thoughts were often mixed up in both talks. Getting better at talking and thinking in growl talk. Mother's body talk was more growly, but she was ok with his chirps. He couldn't get the deep sounds yet. Didn't feel right. Biped words were all over the place, dadfreind and brother were quiet now, hard to hear, but from his old life he knows that they can get very loud.

   Maybe when Mother turns Bobby he could pretend he was his dadfriend again? Dean'd be older, but only by a little bit. Bobby could still be his dadfriend in the future. Pretend Bobby was older. Listen to him like before. They could make even more! Just have to find mates. And his little hairy brother could still be his little _less_ hairy brother. It would be _perfect_. His old family can become his better new family. Blood family.

   But, they don’t want to stay. 'Why not stay?' Dean asked but all that he heard was more chirping. He wished he could talk in their words to them.

   “ _Dean, come on Dude, she's gonna come back and kill us!_ ”

   'No Mother wouldn’t do that, she doesn’t kill bipeds.' Dean chirp growled at Sam. Dean saw Bobby do something with that strap around his waist, and soon he was coming over to Dean with something long and coiled in his hands.

   “ _Don't have time for this._ ” Bobby whispered to Sam and motioned for him to flank Dean. Sam hesitated for a second, but did so once he saw that Bobby used his belt and the strap for his rifle as a leash and collar. “ _Dean, stay still ok boy? We are not gonna hurt you._ ”

   Dean nodded, he trusted dadfriend Bobby and brother Sam. Bobby held up something that smelled like cow and licked his lips, nibbling on the strap. Bobby pulled it out of his mouth and rapped him on the end of his nose with a knuckle. Dean shut his mouth and stayed still at the stern look dadfriend gave. Bobby carefully looped the large hole around Dean's head and let it rest close to the base of his neck. Sam was at his side, petting his wings. Holding them? Dean turned around to see that Sam was half straddling Dean's back, holding his wings. 'What are you doing?' Dean chirped. Sam waited and Dean did nothing violent so he loosened his grip but still held on gently. Dean looked back to Bobby and he was at the end of the long rope. 'Leash? This is a leash?' Dean chirped thoughtfully and tugged at Bobby's end with his teeth around the rope. Bobby held tighter and jerked it forward a little.

   “I don't know if he gets the concept of going for a walk.” Sam said behind him. “Lets just, I dunno, push?”

   Bobby shook his head at Sam, Dean easily weighed as much as both of them combined. He bet Sam could ride him like a horse if Dean'd let him. Sam gave a bitchface at Bobby's grip on the leash, Dean was not a dog. He was a dragon sure, but not a mindless animal. Dean took a few steps forward towards Bobby. Looking back to Sam who followed beside him. Still holding onto his wings lightly. They folded along his back tighter. Sam grinned. Dean must have thought that he wasn’t in a good form, the dragon equivalent of slouching and straightened up for them. He kept his wings tighter because that's what Sam wanted. Sam let go and Dean nodded happily. He followed after Bobby until he got to the edge of where his mother allowed him to play. He stopped abruptly and looked at the char marks on the tree. Bobby tugged on the leash again but if Dean didn’t want to go anywhere. He wasn’t going to go. Sam came in front and grabbed the leash too.

   Dean snorted at them, didn’t they know about boarders? He looked up at the singed trees and huffed at them.

   Sam batted Bobby's hands from the leash and Bobby took a step to the side wordlessly. Sam looked at Dean and nodded. He then motioned for Bobby to leave the boarder and he did. Dean gaped. Then Sam tugged the leash again and when Dean refused to move Sam let go of the leash and also left the boarder. Dean whimpered, and paced back and forth. Looking up at the burn marks and at his family who was abandoning him. He shook his head frantically, starting to chirp at them to come back. Worry and sadness and panic laced his chirps and growls. Anyone could see that Dean was panicking and distressed. They're _leaving_ him!

   Sam struggled with himself to just give in and go back to Dean. He couldn’t though. If the mother found him and Bobby that would be the end of their human lives. Bad enough Dean was in deep trouble, he couldn’t save anyone if he was the one needing saved too. Bobby told him as much when he was recovering two weeks ago from his broken ribs. They still weren’t healed yet and he had an idea.

   Sam pulled Bobby along for a few more steps then hit himself in the chest, causing himself to cry out in pain. Dean's head shot up and he stopped pacing, Sam noticed for the first time that Dean had what looked like side fans that spread out from the side of his head and looked like ears. Catching Sam's cries of pain. They flared from Dean's head as he stepped past the boarder. Sam cried out again, holding his side and only faking half of it. It had to be real pain, Dean could always sense when he was faking it when they were younger. Bobby was kneeling down next to Sam on the ground and was shoved out of the way by 500 lbs of determined muscle and scales. Dean sat on his haunches and whimpered nonstop at Sam, willing him to stop crying out in pain. Dean nuzzled underneath Sam's chest, lifting him up a little, so gently. So carefully until Sam got to his knees, then Dean's head dipped again to Sam's hips and lifted again. Dipping it between his legs for more surface area to lift up without getting near the hurt ribs.

   If anyone else did that, Sam would be embarrassed but Dean was enough animal that this motion had no sexual connotations behind it. Dean was just trying to lift Sam up to his feet using his head. Sam's cheeks blushed anyway from embarrassment. Dean's head shuffled back out again and more towards Sam's navel, pushing his tall brothers mid-section back a little more, sliding his neck and body forward until it looked like he was going to straight up lift Sam and carry him in a fireman's carry around the base of his neck.

   “Whoa! Whoa Dean! I'm alright!” Sam said, getting to his feet and checking his junk through his pants to make sure that the baby horns didn’t tear anything. Bobby had to bite down on his fist to keep from laughing his ass off.

   Dean checked Sam over again and licked his hand that hovered over the broken ribs. He then tried shoving Sam back to the boarder, back to his land.

   “Oh! Ow! Oh no, my ribs!” Sam said painfully again, pinching himself just for the real gasp of white hot pain flaring through his body. He doubled over again and Bobby was at his side.

   “Dean! Come help me get him to my home. My home, Dean. Not here. My home that way. I can help Sam there. Not here.” Bobby said slowly, making sure Dean's lizard brain could keep up.

   Dean paced back and forth between them and the boarder several times before chirping mournfully towards his land, nest and mother. His baby brother needed him. He was so little compared to Dean now. Fragile. Dean gingerly stepped close to Sam and nudged Sam around to face forward. He then dipped low and practically shoved Sam over his back and wings. Sam yelped a little and Dean stilled immediately. When it looked like Sam was going to get off Dean growled at him. The noise was so fierce and threatening Sam just paused and put his hands to Dean's shoulders right at the base of the thick long neck. Dean eyed him with his left eye, not able to look completely around and nodded briefly. He sighed as he looked past Sam towards his nest and then looked to Bobby again. He dipped his head low and grabbed the end of the leash in his teeth. Bobby outstretched a hand but Dean growled louder. Bobby took a step back as Sam was busy trying to find a good balance on the back. He was worried he was pinching Dean's wings awkwardly but Dean just shuffled them a little. Stretching them downward then folding the wing fingers up again, tucking Sam's feet in. Bobby was amazed that Dean was now basically holding onto Sam's feet with the wing wrists and making sure he kept his balance. It was like Dean played horse all the time. He then turned his head and gave Sam the end of the leash.

   “You want me to have this?”

   Dean tilted his head and squinted. He seemed to understand because he nodded and spat out the leash into Sam's hands. Dean looked at the end of the leash that was dangling and grabbed it again and tried to tuck it into the collar. Sam got the hint and tied it the the other side of Dean's neck so it was like horse's reins. Dean then faced Bobby again. Bobby started walking and Dean took a few trial steps, adjusting everything for Sam's benefit. Sam noticed that Dean changed his whole way of walking and moving to ensure he was settled on the back alright and had a smooth ride. Sam's eyes teared up again. In any form, Dean was still looking out for Sammy.

   After about ten minutes they heard an almighty roar behind them. Dean crouched low and the fans that appeared to be his ears aimed back like a dog being yelled at. He whimpered and turned around to face the roar. Sam and Bobby were worried that he would return to the huge monster but he just sat there. Debating. Sam waited for a moment as Bobby crouched low too. The rage in that roar echoed all around their little valley. She was not trying to be subtle about it. After another hesitant look backwards Dean caught Sam's worried eye. He pursed his lips, reminding Sam of a snake's and then bowed his head in defeat. He got back up and ignored the sound of pain in the next loud roar that seemed to follow them. Bobby kept his eyes peeled behind them, practically walking backwards as Dean stumbled forward. Sam worried if he was too heavy for Dean to carry anymore but realized it was because Dean was mournful. Dean whimpered again, and actually sniffled. His mother was wailing at this point. Loosing another of her offspring obviously caused her more pain then even the first three. Bobby checked his phone again, finally a signal, weak but there. He texted his friends to be on the lookout for the mother striking the town again when they get back from the never ending werewolf hunt.

   They texted back and said they would and exchanged information. Bobby of course, leaving out the fact that they found Dean alive and well. Bobby had an idea and texted that they found the remains of Dean's body the day before and were giving him a hunters funeral tomorrow. The other hunters gave condolences and regrets that they'll miss the funeral. They wouldn't get there in time. They assured Bobby that they would spread the word and Sam startled when he got a text only a minute later. Apologizing for the loss of his brother. Sam looked up to Bobby who shrugged and said nothing. Sam knew it was the only way to keep Dean safe. It wouldn’t be the last text that night and he turned his phone to vibrate because Dean kept looking quizzically at Sam for the odd noises coming from his pocket. Sometimes Dean would chirp back to Sam, asking if Sam knew that he was just saying the word 'flower petal' over and over. Sam pet his brother's head whenever he turned around and rubbed his long neck, reassuring himself that Dean was alive, just changed. Probably for good if they couldn’t find a way to reverse this. But that first dragon, as impossible as it was, looked organic enough, not too magical, fairy tale or mystical about it. If it was natural, then this change would be permanent. It would be like trying to make a tree turn back into the apple.

   Once they were far enough away to not hear the mother's cries anymore, the hunters noticed that they heard a different keening noise. Bobby held out his hand and rubbed it along Dean's long chin, using his knuckles to lightly bump the thicker, nearly pointed jaw bumps. Knowing that when he becomes a full grown dragon, they will likely be short but sharp spikes. For now, the sharpest things on Dean are his 4 toed clawed hind feet, five toed front feet and his 'baby' teeth. 20 all together so far. Disbursed around his mouth with the canines and eye teeth being the most prominent but still only 2 inches long. Sam could easily imagine them growing like the mother's, pushing 8-10 inches long.

   They took a rest as Dean was panting pretty hard and now that they had some peace and quiet, Sam finally was able to really explore Dean's new form. Dean let him. Knowing and trusting his brother not to hurt him. Dean likewise took the chance to sniff his brother and dadfriend, putting their scents to memory and getting his own kind of information from them. Sam smelled like that big black metal thing that he used to call 'baby'. Dean faintly remembered that it was his and was a little jealous that Sam got her. He smelled Bobby's gun and snorted at the strong scent of silver in the chambers. He also smelled iron and something else. Some plant or herb. It made his nose itch. Bobby picked up on this and took three rounds from his rifle. One silver, one iron and the other that was covered with the plant scent. He held them out to Dean who inspected them, touched the iron and nothing happened, he touched the silver and recoiled sharply. Hissing at Bobby.

   “What happened?” Sam snapped, coming back around to Dean's front after checking out the end of his tail.

   “He doesn't like silver, acted like it burned him.” Bobby stated, pulling it back and putting it back in the rifle. He then held out the herb covered one and Dean eyed him with distrust.

   “Here.” Sam took the herb one from Bobby and held it to his own hand, showing that it doesn’t hurt him and raised an eyebrow at Dean. Dean snorted again but held up his other hand to the bullet. It seemed to numb his hand as he had to shake it repeatedly and bite it. It looked like he was trying to wake it up. He put some weight on it but it flopped on the ground. Dean hissed at Bobby again and made for the rifle. Bobby held it out of his reach and Dean got to his feet quickly. He stumbled a little before using his other three legs more and lifting his numb one as best he can to reduce drag. Tripoding forward and hissing again at the rifle, growling at Bobby for keeping it away. Dean hobbled forward, slowly getting feeling back in his hand, enough to put some weight on it, and snapped his head forward. The speed shocked Bobby into letting it go, and Dean spun around and trotted off with it.

   “Hey! Dean! Bring that back!” Sam called after, trying to follow his brother who full on bolted into the woods. “Great! _Just fuckin' great_! We get him all the way out here, just an hour's more walk to the Impala and you piss him off!”

   “Don't use that tone with me boy, we needed to make sure that we can put him down if he turns feral.”

   “He was just fine! Now he's _gone_!”

   “We will find him again. But there is no way in hell that I'm letting a dragon into my house with no knowledge of how to take it down if we need to. Now shut up and help me find him. The sun's going down.”

   Before they got 10 feet from their path they heard rustling and stopped dead. They saw movement and crouched low, hoping that it wasn’t the mother. Dean strutted out from the underbrush and huffed at Bobby angrily but sat next to Sam. Rifle nowhere in sight. Sam made a show of wiping off the remaining scent of that herb bullet onto the grass and 'washing' his hands in dirt so Dean didn’t have to feel it either. Sam had to admit that Bobby was right. If Dean did become dangerous, they could use the herb on him to sedate him and if that didn’t work, anything silver should keep him restrained. His stomach churned again. Dean was putting his life in hunter's hands. Trusting them, leaving his mother for them. And they were busy planning on how to contain and train him or take him down.

   Dean motioned for Sam to get back onto his back, going so far as to nudge one of Sam's legs up and over. Sam stumbled back from Dean and held up his hands. “I'm ok, I can walk from here, Dean. Thank you for the lift.”

   Dean shook his head, nosing the ribs that Sam still clutched unconsciously. He poked them a little more roughly then necessary and Sam winced. Dean let show a know-it-all smirk and nudged at Sam's leg again. It was amazing how much of his brother was still in there. How much emotion he could convey with limited facial motions. Sam relented and got back onto Dean's back. It helped in getting Dean to keep going with them to the Impala but still Sam hated that he was basically turning Dean into a horse. Dean hugged his feet again and he noticed that the small nubs at the wing wrists were actually stroking the toe of his boots. Dean had a very flexible thumb on each wing. He could probably grab stuff with it too. Sam distracted himself from the new pain that Dean caused, shifting that rib that was just starting to hurt less. He probably doesn’t realize how strong he is. Just getting used to this new form. Sam wondered how long ago Dean 'hatched'. Less then two and a half weeks. Gestation was too fast. That dragon could have an army of human turned dragons in just a couple of months. And they just pissed her off. What if she does decide to just make as many as possible. They would be looking at mass abductions. More innocent lives changed forever. Or what if she decided to just say 'fuck it' and destroy the village. Sam and Dean might have condemned the whole town because they poked the dragon. She might have just stopped at the three girls and maybe three men. But then what? They grow up as fast as Dean and then there's 7 grown dragons making more and more and more. Sam's head hurt again.

   Or, what was most likely, is that it would just have been the 7, and they went their separate ways after reaching adulthood. There was no indication that there were packs of dragons out there. They were so freakin' rare that even seasoned hunters like Bobby thought they went extinct or evolved into that other dragon breed they encountered. The ones that took human form more often then not. Bobby hoped that Dean could be like them. At least live a fairly normal life. But, that mother, she didn’t have the same feel as the shifter dragons. Too old fashioned. She probably hibernated for long stretches of time, waking up to mate, raise the babies, and go back to sleep. She might even be the offspring of an older dragon. Perhaps Dean and the others were supposed to take her place and she would die soon anyway. Like salmon spawn. That would explain what Sam was saying earlier. She seemed damn near human and docile. She wasn’t a dragon her whole life. They would need to do more research on the matter.

   Bobby went on ahead of the brothers and found the Impala soon after. Dean rested back a ways from the road, somehow knowing that he shouldn't be seen by other humans.

   Sam thanked every good god he knew that Dean still had some brains in him. Enough to be self aware of his own predicament. He ducked low as one other car drove down the road. A red van belting out show tunes. Dean huffed at it.

   “I know dude, some people just have no taste for the classics.” Sam patted Dean's shoulder as he took the opportunity to dismount. Dean huffed at him but this time let him stand on his own. Soon the black Impala pulled up along the other side of the road and the dragon and his little brother had to bolt across the street before another random car showed up. Sam opened up the backseat and looked between Dean and the seat several times, trying to figure out how to fit something horse sized into its space with as little damage as possible. Human Dean would be having a fit right now if he could see his dragon self just claw his way right onto the backseat and drape his right legs and wing into the foot well, alleviating some of the cramped space issues. His head tucked around the front driver's side of the bench seat and rested onto Bobby's left shoulder. Bobby chuckled a little and pet his nose affectionately. Sam carefully tucked Dean's long tail between his side of the bench seat and shut Dean's door and got in himself under the tail. Dean then rested it again in Sam's lap and let it drape down into the front floor well over Sam's legs. Sam crossed his legs around Dean's tail and got an annoyed huff for it. Sam chuckled too and reached back to pat Dean's arched back a few times. Fingers grazing over the thin wing webbing. So odd how light and fragile it looked but strong enough to lift all that mass. Well. Not yet. But too soon. Still, Dean was being very complaisant.

   “Goooood brother.” he cooed.

   Dean grumble chirped at him and Bobby got a lungful of dragon breath. “Oh man! Boy, you better breath through your nose or you’re walking home.”

   Dean smirked and dipped his head under Bobby's left arm, then stretched his neck and head further to rest close to Bobby's lap, angling it up to face Sam. His horns were right underneath Bobby's right arm and that head of his was in the space between the men. He opened up his mouth and Sam could see a spark ignite and a very small five inch burst of flame shot out. No more then a cigarette lighter on full blast but enough to make Bobby curse loudly and swerve the Impala.

   “No! Bad dragon! _Bad Dean_!” Bobby shouted, punching the top of Dean's thick muzzle. Dean huffed repeatedly and Sam heard the laugh behind it. The tail beat Sam's legs repeatedly as Dean's whole body seemed to be laughing. His right wing extended a bit and bopped Sam in the back of his head.

   “Hey! Watch it Dean-o. Heh, Dino. Or else I'm gonna turn you into a lovely pair of boots.” Sam taunted and Dean nipped at his hands. Sam rubbed Dean's head and bridge of his nose until Dean calmed down and dozed. Sam had to remind himself that Dean was just a kid now, easily excited and easily tired. And probably gonna wake up hungry and grumpy.

   “Bobby, we gotta get some take out or something before he wakes up. Gonna be a long drive back to your place and I don’t think his stomach can wait that long.”

   “Yeah, was thinking about that. There's farms all along the highway, I figure we can let him out, stretch his wings and he can find himself some food. I don't think letting him hunt in the woods would be a good idea. If he wanders off even a quarter mile, we might never find him. He blends in too well and it might trigger his wilder instincts. Farm animals are dumb and slow. We can go to the ends of the pastures where there's no line of sight with the farmhouse and grab and go. Dean could carry off a sheep, calf, something small but enough to keep him satisfied for the rest of the trip. Save on our wallets. Not sure if you saw the nest site too well, but there were several cow's heads around the place. And I don’t think it was just the mother's doing. You said she hunted deer? Well Dean likes burgers. They were burnt to a crisp. I guess they like their food charred before eating it.”

   Sam nodded. He looked at the farm houses that dotted the lands and felt like apologizing already for his brother's midnight snack.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

   Castiel woke up and slid his hand over to the other side of the king bed. It was cold. Odd. He lifted one sticky eyelid up and saw that his wife was no longer in bed. Maybe she decided to get up before noon for once? Wait. What time was it anyway? He glanced lazily towards the mirror over the dresser to look at the outside window behind him rather then just flipping over. The sun was shining bright and the shadow of that tree in the yard was shading the bedroom window. But that doesn't happen till 1 pm or so.

   Both blue eyes opened wider, then regretted it as it was far too bright. He rubbed them and finally shuffled back around to his own nightstand, lifting up the clock face to see the time. 1:10. Well shit. He set the alarm right? Not set. But he's sure he set it! Crap, now he's so late he might as well not show up. Not that his colleagues would notice him missing. Assbutts. He does nearly all of the theoretical work for the papers and they take the lions share of the credit just because he doesn’t speak as loudly at the meetings. It's _rude_ to shout.

   He groans and pops his back as he sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed and hauls himself to his feet. Cloths litter the closet and a glance inside has several boxes that look rifled. He pauses to look at them. Were they robbed? Who robs a house with the occupants sleeping 6 feet away? How hard did he sleep? Must have needed it. Huh. Good luck finding anything of street value under this roof. Looks like his stuff is still here, bedroom TV, that vase he got from his mother. His cloths and everything on his work table in the corner. Some stuff has been moved but still there. All of his papers on the most recent discovery. He makes a mental note to be getting artist renditions of that 'rooogaroo' that he heard a rumor of. Sounds made up. Even more then the other things he's studied.

   No one believes him, and his thesis was a running joke at his work. A lifetime spent studying cryptozoology with next to nothing in cold hard evidence to prove it without a shadow of a doubt. Pictures which were fuzzy were stacked up in a box next to his desk, a Bigfoot poster on his wall, 'I want to believe' on the other with an alien saucer on it beaming up a cartoon cow. Gifts from his friend Balthazar. There was a few newsgroups online that he was the moderator for as well as others he commented on. Trying to figure out a logical explanation for all of these monsters existing in modern day. Insisting that all of the witnesses that say they have seen the supernatural are not simply delusional.

   They have testimonies! Evidence! But all of it can be explained away by blind critics. A month ago he stumbled onto a series of posts made that said that they found out about a secret organization that called themselves 'hunters'. Hunters of truth? Whatever. But they did have some good strong theories and convincing photo's of some things that even he's never seen before. Mostly on how to kill those creatures and how to track them down. He tried it himself but didn’t get further then the police station. No one was talking to the believer of course. They just wanted to hear the lie that everything is fine and that there is nothing supernatural out there. He absorbed everything he read and in his free time when the wife was at work, he would make theoretical plans for dealing with these things in real life. What studies to do on them and how to use what we learned from them for good. Balthazar got him drunk some night awhile back, he can't recall which, but somehow his paper was published and he got a few good reviews of it before it was lost again to the internet ether. At least it's out there if someone needs it. That thought made him grin a little to himself for a job well done. Even if it was about two weeks ago.

   He shuffled out of the bedroom, past the bin filled with photo's and newspaper clippings he still hasn’t organized yet into something _other_ people could read. He notes absently that his wife's hall table is gone and the lamp is resting on the floor. Maybe Meg is redecorating. He finds the kitchen and more and more things are pulling at his brain to focus on, the common thread that the other side is refusing to acknowledge. If he squints he wont see that Meg's pots and pans from over the island are completely gone, or that the good silverware is missing from the drawer. He starts up the coffee pot as a stray tear falls down from his eye. He wipes it away. Must be allergy season.

   The cupboards are nearly bare, a can that had fallen down rolls to the end as his reflexes catch it before it hits the floor. He clutches that can of peaches and holds it to his forehead. More tears fall and he can't ignore them forever as the small drops of salty water pool a little around his favorite coffee cup, 'worlds best lover'.

   He stops the coffee cup's ascension to his lips to look at the photo printed on the side. He and Meg at some souvenir shop in Ohio. His mouth thins and he throws the mug against the wall. It would have crashed into a framed photo of Meg and her brother but that too was gone. He scowls at the empty wall, empty house, empty bed.... empty heart.

   She left.

   He knew that if he turned around he'd see the divorce papers on the table so he ignored it completely, got out a Christmas mug from the back of the cupboard and drank the rest of the coffee. Throwing the coffee pot against the same wall, “YOU FORGOT SOMETHING! BITCH!”

   What a fucking _bitch._ She was with him though the good times and _some_ of the bad. She hated his long hours but his work was very important to him! She knew that when they were dating! This wasn’t something that sprung up out of nowhere. And every single day off he had he spent it with her, taking her places, making sure she knew she was loved. But... last week. That must have been it. She had been showing signs that the honeymoon was over and maybe they did get married too quick. It was only two years ago. He still loved her. But.. she fell out of love with him. Or maybe, it was what he confessed last week. But really, who would have thought that that would be so important to her? He was with _her_. Castiel chose to marry _Meg_. Not some dude. Like that one in the files of 'potential hunters'. He just mentioned that the dude looked cute. And really, she'd be blind if she didn't agree. Then the argument... then the silence. If he'd known she'd leave because of it, would he have kept that side of him a secret forever?

   Castiel regretted breaking the coffee pot. It was a nice one. And she did give it to him. Maybe she remembered how much he said he loved fresh coffee in the morning from his awesome coffeemaker. Shit. He pulled on his tan trench coat and walked out to get the mail. He didn't have the energy to get dressed and a robe was too cliché. He nodded to a neighbor out for a smoke break and went back into his empty house. Tire marks in the yard and the grass was trampled, his unhelpful brain noted.

   He slumped down on his recliner, couch and chair missing along with the TV, entertainment center and half of the books on the bookshelf. “Oh, I see you left the bookshelf and year old magazines. Classy.”

   His answering machine blinked at him. “No Balth. Not today.” he rubbed his eyes tiredly, wondering if the missus.... scratch that, _ex missus_ , left any liquor. He shoved himself back up from the recliner and found one bottle of Jack and brought over his Christmas mug, wiping it out with the waist strap of his trench coat. He decided to live in this trench coat. Never taking it off. He felt good wearing it. Like a little warm space just big enough for him. His body armor from heartless bitches that divorce their devoted husbands just because they come out as bisexual. Screw society's rules. This coat is nice and he's gonna live in it. Judgment free zone.

   After the fourth shot, his house phone rang and the answering machine dutifully picked it up. “SERIOUSLY CASSIE! PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE! THEY FOUND SOMETHING! CALL ME BACK, ASSHOLE!”

   Castiel winced at the volume. Too early for that shit. Well, ok, not _early_ early but the bitch did turn off his alarm clock and probably slipped him something to keep him asleep while she and her brother, most likely, took all of her stuff out. He couldn’t be too pissed at her for that, he did get a free day off from work with a good excuse. “Wife drugged me and left me this morning so I'm gonna take a day off.” heh, maybe then his coworkers would be forced to do some damn work. Assbutts.

   After another hour or so staring at his ransacked living room he decided to put on a pair of pants and call Balthazar back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Not as evil as a cliffy :) We finally meet Castiel! originally he wasn't supposed to show up until way way later but I didn't want to leave him out for so long. So, here's what he was doing at the time. I don't know if Meg will be making an onscreen appearance but I did imagine it to be Rachel Miner. (second brunette meg) I found out that a coworker of mine went to high school with her and she has always been an actress with that gorgeous voice :) As much as I am a Destiel fan, I also kinda shipped Megstiel. and I don't think she's a bitch! I just had him as a recent divorcee in the original story and wondered who would Cas marry if not Dean.
> 
> again, Kudos are love :) Thanks!


	3. Bobby's nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip back to Bobby's house was not without upsetting setbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights or characters of Supernatural nor Lynyrd Skynyrds song lyrics to 'Simple Man'.  
> and I deeply apologize to anyone that owns a cow. (sorry!) 
> 
> (I had two wonderful pet chickens once and everyone and their uncle would feel compelled to tell me how I could kill them. Needless to say it got old real fast. )

* * *

 

Chapter 3:

Bobby's nest.

 

 

   Sam really _really_ wished he stayed in the car during that midnight snack. Dean's fires were impressive but not as big as the mother's of course. His flame source seemed to peter out before the end and Dean had to deal with 'rare' cooked instead of well done. Sam nearly lost his salad as Dean ripped off a hindquarter and dragged it back to his brother. Looking proud as a peacock for the kill. He spread his wings out and held his tail up high. Telegraphing to everyone that he killed the mighty beast solo, and generously offered Sam the best part of the animal. Gotta take care of his little brother. He can't hunt for himself like Dean can. Wait, Bobby needs to eat too though....

   Bobby was laughing his ass off at Sam, trying to explain to Dean that he doesn’t eat a whole lot of red meat when a mass of bloody flesh was dropped inches from Bobby's boots. Sam turned and snickered at Bobby's offered dinner.

   “uhhh...” Bobby managed as he reluctantly tried to identify what part of the cow this came from. Dean bowed his head as if he received great praise and trotted back to his kill to continue to eat the cooked bits, leaving the uncooked untouched. If brother and dadfriend wanted some more they'll have to cook it themselves. Dean was all out of juice and hungry as hell. He ate what he could manage and walked lazily back towards the Impala. Belly distended low and satisfying.

   Sam rummaged around the Impala's trunk and reluctantly pulled out an ax, and approached his 'dinner' again and cut off the thinner part of the leg, hauling the bulk of it back to the Impala and putting it in few grocery bags before fitting it in the cooler. They should get some more ice at the next rest stop. Hey, meat was expensive and Dean would be hungry again eventually. Waste not, want not.

   Dean licked his lips and then looked at his feet and wing thumbs and all of the blood spatters from the hunt and kill. He then faced Sam for some kind of solution to his messy problem.

   Sam shrugged and looked around. Dean sniffed the air and made a mad dash past the Impala and towards the wooded area nearby. “Dean! Wait!”

   Dean stopped suddenly, all but skidding to a halt. Sam just about ran into him. Dean grabbed Sam's sleeve in his mouth and tugged him forwards a little and pointed ahead with a wing. He then ran off again. Sam following after, knowing now that Dean wasn’t running away, he just found something useful. A wide stream. Dean was busy drinking his fill first, damn near daintily so as not to disturb the silt at the bottom. He then licked his lips and walked into the water, wings drooping to thumb at the surface and wash off his leading wing edges. The urge to just drop into the stream and swim was very great but he knew that they wouldn’t let him back into Baby all wet. Sam saw the struggle in the young dragon's eyes as he only got the bloodied parts of his body wet and washed.

   “Screw it. I'm gonna join you. We got that blanket in the trunk and I've got a change of cloths in there too.”

   Dean tilted his head a little as his little brother was stripping down to his skivvies and walking into the stream next to him. Shivering immediately, he nudged at Dean's side. “Come on!” he dipped a hand down and splashed Dean's face. Dean gawped for a second then looked back when he heard Bobby coming up behind. He dipped his wing underwater, waited then shot it upright as a wave of silt filled water hit Sam square in the chest.

   “ _Fuck_ that's cold!” Sam yelped and scampered back a few feet. Dean huffed merrily at him and dipped his long neck low to skim the water with his mouth and spat out a stream of water at his brother to wash off the mud splatter. Sam did not appreciate it and splashed back. Dean dodged as best he could and spread his wings. Sam staggered a little again, reminded of how huge Dean was now as nearly twenty feet of wingspan swung forward and slapped both of his sides with heavy water droplets. Dean flapped again and sent another spray of water at his brother before bringing the wings tight to his body and diving underwater to avoid his little brother's revenge.

   Dean somehow managed to disappear entirely from view as Sam waded around, trying to feel him out in the now murky water. Movement to his right caught his eye as his left was pummeled with Dean's head, pushing him into the water and brought under by one of Dean's wings. He came back up sputtering and coughing as Dean jumped around him, water sloshing everywhere, chirping with delight.

   “You sound like a bird, Dude. And not like a hawk or eagle or something _cool_ , you sound like a _pigeon_.”

   Dean's chirps died down and he scowled at Sam. Hunching down and wriggling his hindquarters for an attack.

   “Bring it Puff.” Sam taunted, hunching down as well in a football tacklers pose.

   Dean abandoned skill for brute force and lunged at his brother, toppling him over easily as Sam tried and failed to dodge the attack. Dean's wings couldn’t be avoided unless Sam managed to sprint 10 feet in either direction. Dean chirruped some more mixed with those grumble growls and Sam remembered that its how Dean talks now. He could imagine what Dean was saying but his heart twisted a little at not being able to chirp-talk back to him. Worse yet, never really knowing for sure what Dean said. Dean seemed unconcerned and kept up his rough housing and taunting commentary, learning how his body worked in water and flapped his wings a few times, testing himself if he could get off the ground. He stopped and saw a huge tree off to the side. If he climbed that he could glide down into the water. He didn't know how to land yet and water would be _awesome_ for practice landings. Dean jumped out of the water and landed only a few feet away, jumping again until he hit the thin sandy edges and shook all the extra water droplets from his hide. Sending an impressive spray around him that reflected in the sunlight. He flapped a few more times, drying off his wings before assessing and scrambling up the tree.

   Sam was shocked and ran after him. “No! Dean you can't! Don't go up there, you're too heavy! No way that tree can hold you up!”

   Dean ignored him and climbed up a little higher. Looking down from his 20 foot high perch his nerves faltered. This was too high. Too high. His brother was way down there. Freaking out. Too high. Sam's scared for him. Air's too thin. Body too heavy, branch too thin. Creaking, breaking, gonna fall. Can't breath. Can't move. Too high. _Too high._ _TOO HIGH_. He trembled on the branch and it creaked underneath him. His claws dug in too firmly, weakening the unstable limb further. He backed up slowly but the whole damned tree started to groan. His wings faltered for a moment but snapped out in time to clumsily glide down to the water as the tree crashed all around him. Dean sputtered and pushed up from the water and fearfully snapped and bit and clawed at the branches and anything that came near. His wings hurt something fierce and his tail was tangling up in the branches as he twisted and turned, trying to free all 6 limbs and tail at once instead of focusing his attention to any of them. A branch jabbed him in the side in several places and he jerked the other way, one wing freed suddenly and shot out straight. Sam yelped from his place closer to the tops of the tree where it landed in the stream and Dean stopped all movement instantly. The branches and tree limbs settled, a coat of leaves on the waters surface. Sam was able to disentangle himself from ends of the fallen tree, and backed up a few steps. Now calm, Dean looked around himself to figure out the best way to escape his wooden net. Dean wriggle his way out of the branches, breaking a few for an easier path out, to come around to Sam's side. Dean insistently nuzzled his brother's ribs and arms and legs, where was he hurt?

   “I'm fine, fine Dean... are you ok? You alright?” Sam ushered them out of the water to the shore and pat down Dean's hide, trying to find any breaks in the scales or loose ones. A few were half broken off but didn’t seem to hurt Dean when he poked them. Dean turned to them and ripped them out at the root one by one, wincing a little. Sam figured that new ones would quickly take their place only if the whole thing was removed.

   He spat them out but Sam collected them from the ground. Dean gave up trying to figure out why Sam did what he did. Maybe he liked scales since he didn’t have any? Dean started to rip out healthy ones and gave them to Sam before Sam caught on and stopped Dean from mangling his own skin.

   “No! Stop! I don’t need anymore. Stop, _please_.” he put his hand over the area Dean was pulling them from and hesitated, only too late realizing Dean could have bitten his hand very badly if the young dragon wasn’t paying attention. Dean nodded, glad Sam was satisfied and turned back to the water again, urging Sam to follow. Sam wanted to swim but Dean's fall interrupted that.

   “Dean. You gotta stop bending over backwards to please me.” Sam said, rubbing Dean's shoulder and the spot below where the scales were taken from. “I'm already happy with you. You're good enough.”

   Dean paused and considered Sam for a moment, stretching his neck and head up so he was taller again instead of keeping his head at Sam's chest height. Dean pet Sam's head with his chin again and used the bend of his wing to usher Sam closer to Bobby standing next to the Impala. The dragon's smile was a little more genuine and he got in on Bobby's side so he could rest his head on Sam's lap instead.

   After awhile, his tail unfolded from the bench seat, inducing several moments of awkward shifting. It needed a little stretch after so many hours on the road. It rested heavily on Bobby's lap under his arms and he often used it like an arm rest but his legs started to fall asleep a little from the weight of it. Bobby pushed it down off his legs into the driver's side foot well, but he couldn’t exactly stop in the middle of the highway to help Dean get his tail in a better spot. Dean accidentally rested his tail on the brake. Bobby cursed and shoved it into Dean's mouth.

   “Bite down on this or keep it out of my way. Either way stop trying to make me crash your car.” Bobby grumbled.

   Dean grumble chirped back and suckled his tail for a moment like sucking his thumb. Then tucked the end of it under Sam's leg as his head rested on his lap. Since his new life started, Dean never slept so good.

   Turns out, dragon's snore.

   The drive went on and on, Sam and Bobby didn’t dare stop for a hotel, there was no pet policy in the world that would allow Dean in. Regardless how much extra money they put down. Not to mention that sneaking in a mythical beast that was easily comparable to the size of a winged horse would be impossible. So Sam and Bobby took turns driving and sleeping, when they had to fill up on gas they parked a ways away from civilization and used their gas can instead of filling at the pump. It would take a few trips but Dean was patient for the most part. Occasionally stretching one limb at a time in the cramped space. 20 hours into the second day and Dean started chewing on Sam's door handle and sharpening his claws at the edge of his own back seat.

   “Dean. Stop. I know when you turn back into your old self, you'll never forgive yourself for clawing up your baby.” Sam intoned, turning around in the seat to see Dean's hands and hind feet flex in and out of fists like a cat. Already the stuffing was spilling out. Another hour had him repeatedly clawing at his door, trying to get out and getting increasingly panicked or pissed. Didn't matter because the result was the same, plastic breaking and metal groaning with a growling panting monster in the backseat.

   “Whoa! Whoa.. ok ok Dean, we're stopping. Gonna take a little break ok?” Sam pat Dean's head a few times to distract him but Dean just hissed at him and scratched harder. Dean pulled his head from Sam's space and arched it in the back, pushing up on the roof with his horns and then head butting the top of the door frame. The whole car jumped with each impact. Bobby pulled over just as they heard the doors interior panel break loose from him pulling with claws and ramming with his budding horns. As soon as Sam made sure the coast was clear he whipped the door open and Dean nearly burst out of the car like a firework from a canon. His wings stretched and he ran to the nearest forest cover and rolled around in the grass and leaves. Panting and growling. Sam stretched out the kinks in his back too and Bobby pulled over further from the road and turned the hazard lights on. He followed the brothers into the woods, which weren’t really woods so much as a 50 foot strip of trees and uncut foliage between the road and a crop of corn. The corn was tall enough that if Dean decided to take a stroll in it they'd never find him.

   'Hate that thing. Too small.' Dean grumble chirruped at Sam as he strolled further away from the car. Sam started to get worried as Dean kept on walking. He jogged to catch up but his ribs only allowed him to go so fast.

   “Don't wander off, Dean.” he called, taking a breather, leaning against a small tree. His response was a hiss as Dean stuck his head up high, spread his wings fully out and flapped them a few times as he weaved in and out of the trees. “Defiant little shit.”

   For fun, the kid dragon climbed his front half up a decent sized tree and shoved at it. He pushed off and shoved it again, knocking it over. It made a startling crashing noise that jolted Bobby from his phone call and he came running over to see what happened. Sam shrugged at him. “He's having a tantrum.”

   Dean didn’t stop there, he found another tree nearby, slightly larger and shoved at that one too. When it didn’t move as satisfactorily as the first, he hissed at it and viciously set fire to the base of it like it personally offended him. That got Sam and Bobby's full attention. 'Not a baby. I am a fierce _dragon_. You will _respect_ me!' he growled at them and shoved the tree over and after a beat, kicked dirt over the fire so it wouldn’t spread.

   Sam was at least a little relieved that Dean put out the fire, they didn’t need to cause even more harm to this guy's property. When Bobby came closer Dean rounded on him and hissed with his head low. Bobby immediately stopped and held up his hands. “Not gonna hurt ya, Boy.”

   ' _You’re_ not gonna hurt _me_?! As if you could!' Dean roared at him and stomped over. Bobby took a step back as the half ton pissed off dragon strode up to him. He got up onto his hind legs again and wobbled just a little before curling his tail in a 4 foot circle around his feet to balance and brace himself. His front arms waved a little but he was trying to make a point here so he curled his hands a little to emphasize the claws. He stretched his neck up tall and flapped his wings to show just how fuckin' huge and powerful he was now. Sam gasped.

   Dean wanted to smirk triumphantly at them but Bobby took a breath and then folded his arms around his chest. He had to take control back or Dean might start acting like a petulant teenager. “You done showing off?”

   Dean dropped back to all fours and snarled at him. Mere feet away. Bobby was sweating and Dean could smell the actual fear that his dadfriend was putting out in waves. Wait. Wait, wait... He was scaring them, not just proving a point. He wanted respect _not fear_. Bobby turned his head to Sam and said, “If he doesn’t want to come with us then I guess we could just leave him here.”

   Sam was about to protest but Bobby winked at him when Dean's attention faltered. Sam stood back up and walked closer to Dean whose wings drooped a little. Tail curled under his forelegs. His snarl petered out and he dropped his head a little. “Bobby's right. We can't make you come with us if you don’t want to. I want you to, but you'll have to get back into the car again. It's just a little longer down the road.” Sam reached a tentative hand up and pet Dean's nose gently. “But, since you don’t like us anymore. I guess.... I guess you made your decision.” he hugged Dean's neck as the young dragon's jaw dropped. “Take care of yourself, Dean.” it broke Sam's heart to say those words, aching to take it all back and drag his brother's dragon ass back to the car but there was some truth in there. They honestly couldn’t make Dean go anywhere or do anything. The air felt like it was squeezed out his lungs. First they take him away from his mother and then they threaten to abandon him in the woods. Lost, vulnerable, and utterly alone.

   Dean stutter-chirped. Wings drooped all the way but not tucked close. Laying down like he was draped with a child's security blanket. He leaned forward as Sam leaned back from the hug. Sam turned around and Bobby did too, trudging back up to the Impala as Dean took some steps after them. The kid made some horribly pathetic sounding cries and whimpers mixed in with the chirps and chased after them just as they reached the car. He bumped Sam's elbow with his forehead, then curled around his waist and grabbed his leg with a foot long hand. Nearly toppling his tall brother. Sam couldn’t help but grab the neck in front of him to steady himself and hug it again. Reaching back to pat Dean on his quivering shoulders.

   It was a shit thing to do to use Dean's deep seated abandonment issues against him. He was just trying to let off some steam and now the kid feels like worthless unwanted shit. The dragon whimpered some more and hung his head low, letting go of Sam's leg so he could hunch his huge body down. He tucked his tail under and close to his body and the wings were as close to his sides as he could manage. He was trying to look as small and harmless as possible. His head dipped as if he were a puppy expecting to get smacked.

   Bobby pat Dean on the shoulder like a good dog and Sam glared at him. They would talk about this later after Dean was settled and out of earshot. Bobby gave a similar pained look to Sam that only lasted for a second before he was all business again. “Ok, come on then. We only have 3 more hours till we're home. Do you have to use the facilities?”

   Dean looked up and clearly didn’t understand all that was being said.

   “He's asking if you need to poop or pee.” Sam helped with a little embarrassing pantomiming. Dean nodded shyly after finally getting it and slowly turned back to the woods. He took some steps and hesitated. He turned his head back and made sure they weren't just gonna leave him anyway. That this wasn’t just some cruel trick to get him away from the car. Sam wanted to just start crying at that. They _broke_ him. Sam took a steadying breath and started to walk ahead of Dean and said, “Yeah, I gotta go too. No peeking.” he patted himself on the back for keeping his voice from cracking. He never would have guessed that using the same line 'hurry up 'cause I'm leaving' used on kids in grocery stores, would hit his brother _so fucking hard._

   Dean watched his brother go to a tree and face away from the others and the road. Sam motioned for Dean to hurry up and go too but elsewhere. Dean slunk down, practically crawling to the first tree he toppled and squatted on the other side of its trunk from Bobby. Obviously looking towards the field so as not to 'peek'. Sam noted that Dean was so very young, that's the same moves that puppies do before they learn to lift a leg to urinate. It really put it in perspective. He was the older brother now. Dean shuffled back, careful not to step in his wet spot and squatted again to defecate. Some grunting was heard and Sam tried very hard to ignore it. He didn’t want to embarrass Dean for squatting in the woods so he too went over to some taller weeds and squatted down. Sam hoped that Dean couldn’t smell the lack of output to realize that it was all just for show.

   Bobby just chuckled at Sam and called his friend back to finish the phone conversation.

   Dean had at least some sense to kick some dirt and grass over his impressive mound and walked nearly on tip toes around the area. Dipping his nose down to take a quick sniff. Yup, still healthy. No weird colors or smoldering ashes like two days ago. Seriously, how does that even happen? Dean snorted and shook his head. He would have to warn the others that he sometimes shat still burning embers of cow bone. Oh the joy's of dragonhood.

   Sam walked closer to Dean as it appeared he was done and they walked side by side back to the car. Each step feeling lighter because Dean was reassured that he wasn’t being left behind. His Sam was here, and if he behaved, Sam would stay with him.

   Dean tucked himself fully into the back seat, not even daring to stretch out his tail or head into the front. He curled into himself and hid his head under a wing. He sighed heavily and pretended to go to sleep. Sam pulled the bench seat just a little more forward for Dean's comfort and Bobby didn’t say a word. Sam looked like he was folded in half but he insisted on driving the rest of the way. He was bringing his brother home.

   They arrived at the scrapyard at night and Bobby came around to let Dean slide out of the car. He did so, being extra careful not to claw up anymore of the seats or interiors. “Don't worry about that Dean, we will have her all fixed up nice and pretty in no time. Just need to add something to give it more cushion for you. Keep those claws of yours safe. Maybe a leather blanket to cover the seats next time.

   Dean grumbled a little but not angrily. He was upset that he did so much damage and just because he was listless and bored. He took a few steps away from the car as Sam took it the rest of the way into the property to their usual hiding place for it. They didn't want any unwanted visitors noticing that the Impala, and therefore the boys, were there.

   Dean remembered Bobby's nest from earlier, from old life. It seems smaller now.

   Bobby walked to the back lot and started hefting some wood into a rough rectangular shape, then threw more logs and timber in the middle. Sam came over and saw that Dean hadn’t moved at all since leaving the car. Obviously not wanting to piss off either hunter if he went somewhere they didn’t want him. Sam patted his leg a couple of times and Dean perked up a little. Trotting over. Sam immediately chastised himself for calling Dean over like a dog. “I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

   Dean looked up questioningly but quickly assumed Sam changed his mind about having him around. Dean ducked his head and started to walk dejectedly back to his former spot. Sam had to run to catch up and grabbed Dean by his head. Having to use both arms to force it to look him in the eyes. It was easily a foot wide and one and a half feet long. “No! I didn’t mean I didn’t want you to come over, I shouldn’t have done it like _that._ I mean, pat my leg. You are not a pet and I don't think of you as one. I never will, Dean. You are still _you_.”

   Dean sighed a little and nodded in Sam's hands. Sam could tell Dean didn’t believe that the clumsy beast was wanted, but listened to the order anyways. He gave a halfhearted series of chirps and walked a little behind Sam to where Bobby was trying to start a fire using the wet lumber.

   “We told everyone we gave Dean a hunters' funeral. They might get suspicious if they don’t see the remains of the fire.” Bobby explained over his shoulder.

   After a minute, Dean snorted and then walked up next to Bobby, using a foreleg to shove him back a little ways away. He gave a quasi-confident nod and faced the logs again. Dean opened up his mouth, and Sam could see a haze shoot out just as a spark ignited it and the whole pile of logs was set on fire. Dean's head was in the middle of it.

   “Dean!” Sam shouted, alarmed, as all he saw was Dean's convulsing neck and body, head completely engulfed in flames. Dean pulled it back out, licking his lips and shaking it a little to disburse the remaining wisps of flammable fog.

   Dean chirruped questioningly and Sam stumbled on his words. “Y- you - you’re ok?”

   Dean shrugged and nodded, turning back to check on his fire. The other side wasn't burning quite as satisfactorily so he strode directly over the blaze and set the other side on fire too, nearly running out of juice. He then turned his head, eyes drooping and cooed a little as flames licked the underside of his belly and he actually hunkered down on the still burning logs. He rolled around in the nice warm embers and would occasionally relight a log that wasn’t burning hot enough.

   “Flame proof huh?” Bobby commented.

   “I guess. But then, why did the other eggs burn?” Sam questioned.

   Dean raised his head and chirruped a question. Oh, that's right, Dean didn't know what Sam did after they split up. Dean thought about the idea of other eggs burning and gave Sam a sideways squint. But, Sam didn't know that the others were once bipeds. Dean sighed at him irritatedly. But no real heat behind it. He vaguely remembers being the one to order Sam to kill the eggs in the first place. Dean laid back down on the hot coals and relaxed his wings outward to absorb all the heat of the fire. Flapping them to send oxygen in to get the flames higher. Dean looked to Sam and answered his question by rolling to his side and rubbing his hand on his belly and scales. When that didn’t get the message across he huffed and pulled out another scale from the area earlier, this one was deep underneath the outer layer and completely bendable, not yet as stiff as the other snakelike scales. He held it in his teeth and let it catch fire and threw the small two inch burning scale at Sam. Dean then covered up the sensitive area with his hand so the flames wouldn’t catch that part of him on fire. It started to sting a little. It should heal, or leave a dent in his side until he shed again.

   Sam figured out that Dean was saying it was his thick hide. Unborn baby dragons didn’t have the thick scales yet. They were totally defenseless. Sam's guilt gripped him again. They were the very same women the brothers had gone out to save, and he ended up unknowingly killing them.

   Dean smelled the change in his brother's mood and left the fire to stand next to him. He leaned into Sam's legs and dipped his head towards Sam's chest.

   “Wow. Uh, Dean. You are very warm.” Sam put his hands to Dean's cheeks and Dean just about purred. “So I guess that's how dragons get warm, you just set yourselves on fire. So that means you're cold blooded?”

   Dean wasn’t paying attention anymore. He was finally warm, had his brother by his side and he was home. All he had to do was behave and nothing bad will happen.

 

   Scratch that. He _was_ behaving but they still wanted him to go downstairs to that little metal room. Flashes of memories of Sam screaming in pain in it chilled him. Only bad things go in the room. But he was _good_ now!

   “Dean, it's just temporary. I doubt you'll even fit in the house in another week if you keep growing like you are. I mean, you’re only what, two weeks old at the most? I tell you what, I’ll sleep down there too with you. I'll ask Bobby to help bring down some blankets and pillows and we can make you another nest. Think of this like some big nest. Okay? None of the doors will be shut and locked. You can leave whenever. When you get too big to go in through the house door, you'll have to use the overhead skylight to get in from above. That's hidden behind a few junkers out back, I'm sure you wont have any problem climbing down in when you're big enough. Then it will kinda be like a burrow for you. We'll get some heaters set up to keep you nice and toasty without wasting your flames, or setting Bobby's house on fire. Bobby doesn’t have enough room in the rest of the house for you to stretch out fully. Your wings are quite large... have to keep them tucked while you're inside. And when you get too big, Bobby and I will figure out a place for us outside the house so you're not seen by his customers. We'll probably clear out one of his storage barns. But don't worry, I'll get us a TV and stuff in there for us to watch.

   Dean grinned more at Sam saying the word, 'us' than anything else.

   Sam rubbed his scruffy chin for a second, absently thinking about how nearly 3 days spent solely in a car would give him quite the beard. Bobby's beard hardly changed. He longed for a shower and to sleep in a proper bed and not curled up uncomfortably with a dragon's head as a pillow. Dean deserved a better bed as well. The trip was probably harder for him then the others. Only that one mega-meal of cow, and the leg snack the next day, to tide him over. He never asked for anything more. Maybe he doesn’t need to eat more then once every couple of days, so long as the meal is huge enough. At least Sam and Bobby could go into the gas stations for food and to stretch their legs every 4 hours. Dean was stuck for the vast majority of the trip, folded into himself several times. Like trapped in a coffin two sizes too small.

   “You hungry?”

   Dean nodded enthusiastically.

   “Well alright, let's see what Bobby has in his chest freezer.” Sam said and found Bobby already in the kitchen, pulling out every chunk of meat he could find from the freezer, some thawing in the sink. The chest freezer out back had already been raided apparently as the counter top was covered in brown paper packages with ice crystals dripping off.

   Dean followed Sam outside and he tried to use his flames again to cook the meat but all that came out was a pathetic string of flaming drool. Dean spit it out and tried again. The flame didn't even touch the meat before he was _out_ out. He whimpered a little and started to eat the raw meat.

   “Whoa, hang on, we can cook it in the oven. It will just take a hot minute.” Sam picked up the piece Dean was chewing on and added it back to the tray of venison and brought it back inside. Bobby already had some in the oven. “You reading my mind Singer?”

   “Common sense idjit. That boy's used up his fire luges on the hunters' funeral pyre. Hope he likes gator.”

   “What?”

   “Friend of mine needed some help finding a rare car part and he could only pay me in what he had. Which apparently was gator meat. He said it was delicious and I said, why not. So now I have 20 lbs of gator meat in the oven. Not sure how long to cook it for. Not a whole lot of recipes online.”

   “I'm sure it will be fine. Right, Dean?”

   Dean walked to the oven and took a sniff and some drool hit the tile. Smoking a little.

   “Shit!” Sam shouted, shuffling around Dean's huge body in the small kitchen to stomp out the smoke before it turned to flames. “Dean!” he admonished.

   Dean looked over quizzically and then to where Sam was stomping. Licking his lips he looked back to the oven, trying to figure out how to open it and get the meat.

   “Alright, that's it. Too many cooks in the kitchen. Out!” Bobby ordered and shoved Sam out of the sliding doors to the study turned library as Dean bit onto the oven's handle and started pulling. He couldn't get it all the way down though before it would snap back shut with a loud bang. The second time he used his hand to hold it as he let go of the handle with his teeth. He pushed it down and Bobby heard a worrying creak from the hinges.

   “ _Out_! That means you too Draco!” he ordered, using oven mitts to push the tray of meat back into the oven and Dean's snout out of it. Dean grumbled at him. “Yeah, I don't care if you think it's done enough! I want to have some too since its _my food_ and you can just wait till it's done cooking. Go sit next to your brother. Play a board game, eye spy, or Parcheesi I don't care just _git_!” Bobby grabbed one of Dean's horns and pulled with all his might to aim him around. He just managed to turn Dean's head. Dean squared his shoulders and forced his head back forward, pulling Bobby off balance and landing into his side. The young dragon looking like he was gonna go for the oven again. Through the door if he had to.

   Seeing the struggle in the kitchen, Sam abandoned setting up a space big enough for Dean in front of the TV, for a spot next to Bobby in front of the oven. “Come on Dean, I want to watch a Starwars movie but I can't pick the right one to start with. Got any ideas?”

   Dean just stared at him and tried to figure out half of what both of them were saying. Some helpful memories popped up but they were a little disjointed. He followed Sam to help ease his curiosity and to see if his brother would show rather then say what he meant.

   “Sam, start him off with episode 4. he's seen those original movies more then the recent releases. Try jogging his memory with things he's seen or done a thousand times.”

   “Well, that would be cleaning guns and cheap motel rooms. I could always try throwing him against a wall. Monsters love to do that to us.”

   “Yeah, good luck with that. I might have some old classic rock tapes he left here. Spares he kept here while healing up after a hunt. You know where the player is. I'm gonna hit the books while all the meat cooks. You two uh... get re-acquainted. It seems like he's got amnesia or something. Selective of course. It'd be nice if we had some way of understanding him instead of playing twenty questions with his chirps.”

   Sam nodded. He wondered if Dean still remembered the sign language alphabet. Neither really learned more the a few basic signs, but both learned the alphabet when on a case a few years back with deaf victims. Sam really was in awe at how truly strange some monsters were in choosing victims. Dean still has five fingers on each hand, grossly malformed into a more clawed paw like version, but it seemed like the individual fingers could move independently. He noticed that as the kid was peeling the skin of the cow and pulling out the bones. Sam shuttered and shook his head to forget about the sight and especially the _sound_ of _that_.

   He'll just have to teach Dean the sign language alphabet again if he can still understand the concepts of letters, verbal sounds matching them and the words and ideas they conjure up. Maybe even the written letters later on. The toddler dragon that's currently pawing at a throw pillow like it's a cat toy doesn't exactly scream scholar material, but, it's not like Dean isn't still in there somewhere. His base emotions and thoughts, his essences. He understands English pretty well at the moment. Maybe he just needs more contact with familiar things, like Bobby said, to bring out _Dean_ from that scaly hide. Dean started to gently gnaw on the fluffy pillow. Sam rubbed a hand over his face. Like teaching poetry to fish.

   Dean spat out the pillow at Sam's tired glare and turned his attention to the laid out pile of couch cushions on the floor. After a confirmation nod from his shaggy haired brother, he settled on them and made enough room for Sam as well. He was a little hurt that Sam didn't see it as an invitation and instead pulled over a desk chair. Even after Dean patted it, showing it's clearly comfortable, Sam just puttered around the room some more. Dean's wings twitched a little, aching for movement, stretching one then the other over Sam's head. Sam chuckled as he had to duck under them to get from one side of the room to the other and back again. Circling Dean just for fun. Dean's wing thumb tugged on Sam's hair as he passed again and Sam's squawk was awesome. Sam had already found the tapes and player, and was just teasing Dean into shifting back and forth again with his wings and tail, trying to both avoid and hit his brother with the appendages.

   Sam made a mental note to see just how spry that young dragon was. Dean probably needed a lot of exercise to keep him happy. Especially after that very long car ride. If he didn't test his new body, he wouldn't know how to use it in the future to its fullest. If Dean was stuck like this for good, maybe some good could come out of it. Sam's mind wandered to the image of Dean, full on 20 feet tall at the shoulder, 60+ foot wingspan, fireball explosions shooting out of his mouth, bigger and badder then the other dragon, hunting after pathetic vampires or werewolves. Killing the monsters as easily as a cat killing an insect. He had to admit, if they were to hunt down evil, nothing beats a frickin' _dragon_ for a hunting buddy.

   Dean folded his right wing around Sam as he made another round and pulled his brother in all the way, wrapping him up like a burrito. Those wing fingers held on like a webbed hand. Sam knew that one wrong move and Dean could accidentally break one of those long thin bones. He was reminded of a bat's wings, felt smooth on the underside and nearly stretchable, but on the outside was like flexible armor. The scales stretching and the space between getting larger. When relaxed, the wings were able to fold in tight without the membrane looping low. “Like swimsuit fabric. With fake gemstones glued on the outside.” Sam mumbled, feeling the wingskin with a half free hand. The other was pinned behind his back.

   Dean's blank stare prompted him further. “Your wings stretch out like a girl's bedazzled swimsuit, Jess... had a few nice ones...” Sam trailed off and noticed the wing let go of him, he saw it fold back up to Dean's side along with the other one and Dean shifted uncomfortably. It looked like the kid wanted to either say something comforting or give Sam space. Since Sam couldn't understand him anyway, Dean got up and stood in front of Sam. He rested his head on Sam's shoulder and wrapped his right hand around Sam's left leg. Not enough. Dean brought both wings around and wrapped Sam up closer to Dean's neck and the front of his chest. The best hug he could give his fragile little brother. He would have liked to do it properly with both hands but he's pretty sure Bobby's ceiling wasn't high enough, nor Sam strong enough to support his upper body weight.  
For the first time, Dean wished he was his old self again. Just to give Sam a two handed hug.

   Sam felt the full embrace and sank into it a little. Surprising himself how much he was leaning into Dean's consoling grip. Dean gave a few barely audible rolling chirps and nudged the side of Sam's head with his own. Sam made no comment on the fact that he almost lost an eye to Dean's sidefan ears. Sam patted Dean's other cheek in thanks with his left hand and his right behind Dean's neck. The wings then let go after a minute and Dean put his hand back down and shifted his weight. Sam took a step back so Dean could look him in the eyes again. Sam smiled through a tear and said, “Thanks.” he wiped it away, “still hurts to think about it sometimes.”

   Dean nodded and turned his head to give Sam a minute. Sam cleared his throat and went back to the tape player and set up one of the more easy going bands. No screaming singers just yet. “How about some Lynyrd Skynyrd?” he put the old mix tape in and rewound to the start.

   Dean perked up his head and the fans on the sides flared out a little. Sam took a seat on one of the cushions on the floor and Dean happily circled around him and settled as well as a protective barrier around his little Sammy.

    Sam had no qualms about leaning up against Dean's side, patting his tail fondly as 'Simple Man' filled the room. One of Dean's favorite songs.

  
_Mama told me when I was young  
Come sit beside me, my only son  
And listen closely to what I say. _  
_And if you do this_  
 _It'll help you some sunny day. Oh Yah!_

  
 _Oh, take your time... Don't live too fast,_  
 _Troubles will come and they will pass._  
 _You'll find a woman, yea yea, you'll find love,_  
 _And don't forget son,_  
 _There is someone up above._  


   Dean started to nod his head a little to the beat. Sam was keeping time with his toe tapping against the curl of the tail out in front of them. The song lulling them into relaxing into the cushions more.

    
_And be a simple, kind of man._  
 _Oh be something, you love and understand._  
 _Baby be a simple, kind of man._  
 _Oh, won't you do this for me son,_  
 _If you can?_  


   Bobby leaned against the frame of the kitchen door just out of sight. He grinned as the brothers enjoyed the song. He thought it fit perfectly with their lives and current situation they find themselves in, and wondered if Sam chose this on purpose or if it was a happy accident.

  
_Forget your lust, for the rich man's gold_  
_All that you need, is in your soul,_  
 _And you can do this, oh baby, if you try._  
 _All that I want for you my son,_  
 _Is to be satisfied._

 

   Sam felt a rhythmic rumble behind him in time with the familiar chorus. Dean was trying to sing along a little. Sam grinned as Dean switched to contentedly humming along. Settling down a little further against the front of the couch. Sam pat Dean's arm and sang along with the next verse.

  
  
_Boy, don't you worry... you'll find yourself._  
_Follow your heart, lord, and nothing else._  
 _And you can do this, oh baby, if you try._  
 _All that I want for you my son,_  
 _Is to be satisfied._  


   The music filled the study and was a perfect way to set the mood. Calming and uplifting. Reassuring.

  
_Baby be a simple, be a simple man._  
_Oh be something, you love and understand._  
 _Baby be a simple, kind of man._

 

   The song gradually faded out and Dean's tail thumped a few times. Sam chose not to razz him on it wagging like a dog. The next few songs on the mix tape had Dean humming along with what he could remember, and his brother picking up when he forgets the next part. It made Sam happy that through music they were communicating better then all day. This is what it was like to be family.

   Bobby set aside enough meat for himself and Sam and the rest was unceremoniously dumped into the largest mixing bowl Bobby had and put in-between Dean's front legs as he laid in the livingroom. Dean gave a toothy, only slightly terrifying grin and chowed down on the meat. Humming and practically purring as he tore off chunks and ate them with minimal chewing. Sometimes he would throw a piece up and catch it in his mouth again, but one time he did it with a large chunk and stopped and had a curious expression on his face. He ate slower after that and Sam didn't press what changed his brother's good mood so quickly. Probably a memory. Of which life Sam couldn't know for sure. Dean lost his appetite after the first bowl was emptied. But Bobby already had the next batch cooking in the oven, anticipating a repeat of that first day when Dean ate nearly a third of a cow in one sitting.

   Sam let the frozen meat thaw in the fridge and the venison in the oven finished cooking an hour later. Dean was nowhere in sight. Sam wasn't sure when he wandered off and chastised himself for not noticing a 500 lb monster sneaking around. He found him at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement. The look of sad resignation clear in his expression. Dean heard Sam come around and shifted his weight a little. Waiting for Sam to order him downstairs. He wasn't anxious to sleep in the cold dark anymore then Sam wanted him to sleep down there in basically a prison cell, ignoring the open door and Sam's bunk that would be beside him. It would still feel like a cage.

   Dean sighed heavily, but not at Sam, just at his situation, life, the general suckyness of this new existence. He folded his wings in tight and above his wide body, trying to figure out how to get down the stairs without breaking the stairs or his wing bones in the tight space.

   Sam pat Dean on his back between the folded wings, cupping one of the 2 inch tall elongated scales that mark his spine. When Dean grows up, they will probably turn sharp like the mother's were. Dean turned to look at Sam's hand then up to his soft considering gaze with one foot landing on the second stair. “Hold up, Dude. I think we can try getting you upstairs to the bedroom we used to share, if you want?” Sam suggested as they stood there. “Would be warmer upstairs in a bed don't you think? At some point we can get some heaters in the panic room but for now...” he thought out loud. Getting Dean inside the house through the front door was tricky enough, but going downstairs and around the basements tight corners? Not so easy.

   Dean nodded eagerly at that other option. He backed up, nearly running into Sam as he leaped for the stairs, flapping once before tucking one wing in and using the other to help lift himself into the air a bit more so he wouldn’t break the bannister leading up. Papers flew everywhere in the study as the dragon's wings beat to give himself some lift.

   Bobby nearly had a heart attack as thunderous booms filled his old house and he resisted the urge to yell at the boys for disrupting his tooth brushing so spectacularly. He wiped down the spit take from the mirror and tried again. “Idjits.”

   Dean reached the top and stumbled a little on the landing turn but somehow made it to the room, only knocking one picture frame down from the hallway, and claimed the bed closest to the door like always. He leaped onto the bed and kicked the sheets about as he spun in a few tight circles, nudging, pulling and adjusting the top sheet, two under sheets and the fitted mattress sheet in a rough oval with the pillow thrown to the floor, being saved for last. The body flumped down onto the poor bed as it creaked, surprised, at the sheer sudden mass it was being subjected to. The fact that it didn't break was a testament to how well built the furniture was. Sam picked the pillow up from the floor when Dean looked like he was trying to figure out how to reach it but not move from his comfortable spot, his head at the foot of the bed, closest to the door. His tail nearly took out the lamp in-between the beds as he shifted his rump around.

   “Where you want it?” he held it up and Dean bit down on it and arranged it on top of his left hind paw and tail to one side, curling up and resting his head on it. He looked more like a winged cat now as he covered up his body with his wings so that all you saw was his bowed neck and base of his tail. He resembled an egg. Sam lifted the left wing and ruffled his brothers imaginary hair and went to his own bed, flopping down face first and fully clothed. He also chose to sleep with his head at the foot of the bed to see his brother better. Dean peeked out from under his wing and grinned. Flexing the wing out across the distance to the other bed, and being surprisingly dexterous and gentle, he used the index wing finger to stroke Sam's hair back to see his eye. Sam's breath hitched for a second and looked up to see the surreal sight of a plane of light-colored freckled beige-gray underwing stretching out over to Dean's shoulder. Taking up nearly his whole visual range.

   Dean smirked and patted Sam's head with that wing finger and then brought it back around himself like a security blanket.

   “Hey... Dean?”

   The wing lifted again and Dean faced his brother more fully to look at him with both eyes. A protrusion which Sam considered an eyebrow raised on one side. “What's it like?”

   Dean huffed. 'Gonna have to be more specific then that.' he grumble chirped.

   Speaking different languages across different species or not, Sam still got that message loud and clear. “I mean, what's it all like? You have _wings,_ Dude. Like _massive_ wings. And a tail and a long ass neck and claws and you breath fuckin' fire, man. _Fire_! What is that even like?”

    Dean turned to his flank and then back to Sam, it should be pretty damned obvious what it's like. They spent the last 3 days together. Granted, most of that was on the long ass road trip to Bobby's but still. Dean stretched out his wing again and looked at it. _Really_ looked at it. He made his wing into a kind of fist without actually able to curl it all the way in and made another fist with his foreleg. Flexing both at the same time. He shrugged and nodded to Sam's hand. Yeah, he guessed it would be similar. Next up was the tail. Dean really didn’t have anything in his human memories to compare it to. He wiggled his flanks and waved his tail a little. Showing its just an extension of his spine. And the neck, well that’s just longer. The fire breathing part though. Dean remembers gleeking when he was younger or just trying to annoy Sam. That was similar enough, but instead of the underside of his tongue it was at the back of his throat. But how to convey that concept with pantomime... times like these Dean really wished that Sam could speak dragon. Or at least understand it. He understands the old bipedspeak well enough. There was a name for it but he doesn’t remember that either. Just that it _had_ a name. Bipeds had names for everything. How to describe fire breathing to someone that never could. It just kinda... happened when he wanted it to. He had to think hard on what he did to do it.

   He didn’t have as perfect of control as his mother did. He opened up his mouth wide again but Sam shot up onto his elbows quickly. “No! You don’t have to demonstrate again!” Sam shook his head fervently. Dean rolled his eyes and opened up his mouth as Sam cringed from it. He looked back up as Dean was tapping his back teeth with a claw. He then leaned a bit closer so Sam could take a better look and made sparks by grinding those back teeth together. Sam flinched again but nothing happened. Dean huffed and pointed to the underside of his jaw with a finger and rubbed it. He opened up his mouth again and a small wisp of gas and an ultra fine spray of mist came out, bending the image behind it in the air like a propane leak. Dean pantomimed the spark again and Sam nodded. It was a two part deal to get flames. Dean then startled as Sam started coughing. Sam stumbled to the window and opened it wide, hanging his head out and waving his hands. He didn’t stop coughing until the room was cleared of the gas again.

   “Ok, so learned something else. I can't breath that flammable gas.”

   Dean looked apologetic but Sam waved him off. “No worries, now we know.” He shut the old stiff window again and fell back into bed. Covering up with the blankets as Dean did the same with his wings.

   A drowsy voice was heard through the membrane just as Dean was drifting off. “Goodnight.”

   A deep purr was the reply.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. The Hunt Is On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar's fortress of solitude is where Cas hears of numerous startling discoverys.  
> And, unannounced visitors arrive at Bobby's house.

Chapter Four:The Hunt is On

 

 

   “Ok Balthazar. What the hell were you talking about over the phone? Why did we have to meet here of all places?”

   Balthazar looked hastily around them to make sure there were no eavesdroppers and couldn’t stop grinning like a madman. “Oh Cassie, sweet Cassie, you'll understand in a minute. Let's just get somewhere a little more privately.”

   “Again? How much more private can you get in an empty restaurant's bathroom?”

   “I just wanted to meet here, the information is way too valuable. Follow me.” He ordered and with that left the bathroom for the back exit. Castiel followed after, taking a few worrying glances around to the employees that gave them a look and shrug. Maybe this was a common meet up for his old friend.

   They left out the hidden dumpster area for Balthazar's car and Castiel stopped to look at it. “This isn’t your car.”

   “Of course not. I don’t want to be traced.” Balthazar admonished and motioned for Castiel to get in already.

   They pulled out and Castiel made sure that his friend remembered to buckle up as it seems that there was too much on his mind for such a trivial thing as seat belt safety. They drove on for about half an hour before coming to a two story house with garbage and detritus out front. Castiel held onto his nose as something must have died under the porch. Balthazar scrunched his nose too and pulled out a key from his satchel. The door groaned open and there were two other men in the room but took almost no notice of them as they were busy typing excitedly at their computers. Posters, newspaper articles and everything that screamed of 'conspiracy nuts' was scattered everywhere. Castiel sneered inwardly at the obvious cliché. He was a conspiracy theorist as well but his was far more logical, organized and tidy. Likely the only scientist in their community. His degree's were varied, paleontology, veterinarian studies, animal husbandry, cryptozoology, as well as proper zoological science studies; basically organic's caught his eye more then rocks in space, or numbers and string theories. He preferred to take the physical evidence and prove it one way or another, fact from fiction in dealing with biological findings. Testable theories. It doesn’t take a scientist to believe something, but it does take one to prove it without a shadow of doubt to everyone, not just non-believers and critics.

 _This_ was just a mess of ideas in paper form, plastered to every flat and upright surface with a simple path through the house to each room. As if Mulder from the X-Files turned hoarder. Stacks upon stacks of papers and photos and articles teetered on edge as Balthazar led him further into the claustrophobic house. Castiel was getting worried that even Balthazar would loose his way out again if they went in any further.

   “Ok, so...” Balthazar started, pulling out a thick folder from the satchel around his shoulder and handing it over to him. Castiel found a mostly flat surface on a desk and laid out the folder and its contents, wary to keep them from spilling over and getting mixed in with the other debris. They all looked like handwritten notes, some photos and an official looking order on thick yellow paper. “Tell me what you think Cassie. Is it worth all this secrecy?” Balthazar had a thinly veiled smirk behind his voice.

   As he read it appeared to be about several sightings and some evidence of a huge creature. One that hasn’t been spotted in at least 50 years. Foot prints in mud, close to some town called Freedersville. As well as some thermal photos of a huge glowing mass against a cliff face. A spot among the rocks that had heated up, but nothing there at the time the corresponding visual photo was taken. A fire must have been set but there was no evidence of logs or an accelerator. Some bits of cloth were found but no DNA was identified. Whatever burned the cloths damaged the DNA evidence. There were claw marks all over that ledge but no human rock climbing gear or evidence anywhere around. A human didn't set that fire.

   That got Castiel's attention. Balthazar was following along to where Castiel's finger pointed and said, “Keep going. There's more. Oh so much more.” he chuckled and left the room. As he kept reading he noticed a can of pop next to him all of the sudden and saw Balthazar checking out the window and door, making sure the coast was still clear.

   There were reports of damage along one highway leading away from the initial site three weeks later. So much time had passed it was an accident that the incidents were noticed and connected. There were similar scorch marks found in a farmer's field around the remains of a cow. About 20 feet away from the main bulk, the end of the animals left hind leg was found around a puddle of dried blood. Something sharp had severed the thigh from the thinner part of the leg. That didn’t follow with the animal theory. Half of one footprint was found in the blood, five toes, big as a dinosaur's on the animals neck. Fang and or claw marks everywhere. No identified animal markings. Wolves' mouths were too small, and bears had more teeth then this thing, and were not found in the area. The bite radius was simply too big for a land predator. Unless alligators had long canine-like fangs and made their way north for no feasible reason other then to kill that cow and disappear again. They did have five toes but that alligator would have to be the biggest one in existence. And whatever this was, had a sharp cutting tool to sever the leg shortly after the knee joint down from the rest of it. There were at least two sets of shoe prints scattered around. Going to the field and coming back from it. The thing that killed the cow left a very thin trail of cow's blood to the creek nearby and a tree was recently collapsed into the water. No blood on the tree but tracks littered the area. Barefoot human as well as the five toed thing. Maybe it was a mutated alligator? But then, in another series of photo's it shows the tracks leading back to the road, side by side with a humans tracks, and vanishing again. Someone took it.

   Balthazar piped up. “There were humans involved.” and said, “Keep reading. It gets better.”

   “ _Better_?” Castiel read another report of two trees down, one had the same burn marks on the bottom. Whatever this fire accelerant was, left a distinct chemical mark. Unknown to humans. Seemingly organic in nature. Castiel balked at that. Sure there were some animals that sprayed an acidic like substance but nothing could just _make_ fire. Components for a fire... perhaps. But it would need an ignition spark. He highly doubted that the beast would bang two rocks together to make a spark to start a fire. He kept reading at his friend's insistence and took a long swig of the pop. Tire marks, the same as before at the cow site. The same as found close to the original location three weeks prior. And found just recently a few days ago. And a pile of scat.

   Castiel sat up straighter. They actually found droppings?! This was big. Huge. Tracks can be faked but droppings? That might have DNA evidence. That's amazing. Castiel held the paper closer and was disappointed that the results weren’t tested yet at the time the information was gathered and no conclusions made. What he would give to get a sample and study it himself. Balthazar may make fun of him for getting excited about poop but that’s more evidence then he gets on these elusive monsters. There _had_ to be DNA in those droppings. The blood was tested, just cow blood. His hands sunk a little. That would have been awesome. Blood testing was preferable to droppings. Castiel kicked at Balthazar as he started to actually sing, “Scat man.” behind him.

   The reports got _weird_ after that. There was a series of photos that were taken by someone living in Freedersville that posted them online to his friends on Facebooke. Something huge, immense, was flying from one side of the frame to the other, hidden mostly by trees but clearly as big as one. It was labeled as a hoax but Castiel knew what to look for in a hoax. These pictures didn't look doctored at all. Years of seeing and fooling around with photoaltering software made him intimately familiar with how people manipulate real photos to depicting beasts and monsters. Shadows were the easiest to spot missing or in the wrong places. This one was spot on. The tone, clarity and color of the object and trees was similar enough to suggest that both visual elements were taken at the same time. The thing _was there_ and _moving fast_. The image blurred in all the right places if it were really flying through trees avoiding collision but still keeping low enough to avoid being spotted. This kid photographer got a lucky series of shots.

   Castiel had to sit back for a minute. Just staring intently at the photo's. “Here. This, this is its left wing. This photo to this one shows it lifting up the end to avoid this tree top here. While the other one dipped low to compensate. Keeping its body aligned. This thing is real.” he took a breath, “ _it's really real_.”

   The smug expression on Balthazar's face told him there was even more! “Here. This is the golden egg of proof. My inside man said it is real. Frank can find anything anywhere. He's a genius hidden in a trailer out west of here. He first noticed the discrepancies with what the locals were being told and the evidence the traffic cameras caught. Granted there weren’t many out in those sticks but enough to know that the 'Uncle Sam' has been keeping tabs on the activity in the woods to the north of Freedersville. Specifically the area east of Harkade Valley. Helicopters were seen in the area and confirmed by locals. They found something.”

   “More then this?!” Castiel gawped. This was more evidence of the supernatural then he's found in months.

   “Lots more. _They got one_.” Balthazar had a shit eating grin and smacked the report folder with an open hand. 

   “One what? What is it?”

   “Think lizard with wings.”

   Castiel shook his head. Surely this was a joke. Balthazar knew what interested Castiel and this was all some big farce to get back at him for something. Maybe saying no to quitting his day job to go off and hunt monsters with Balthazar.

   “Balth, I'm not in the mood for this. Meg left. Don't you understand? _She left!_ This isn't the time to play with me. If you value our friendship just tell me right now that this is fake and I can find a liquor store and drink it. If not then leave me be _anyway_. I have a headache from hell and I can't deal with all this just yet.” he rubbed his forehead, his hands shaking. He turned aside and had a stuttered breath before saying, “Just. _Don't_.” Castiel wiped his eyes and took a huge gulp of the pop to wet his suddenly dry throat.

   Balthazar paused for a moment and went over to hug his trembling friend. In all the excitement he put his friend's struggling marriage in the back of his mind. “I know, I'm sorry, Cassie. I really am.”

   Castiel swallowed and pushed him back a little, but not enough to dislodge the comforting hug. Balthazar's hugs were the best for forgetting about shit. He was the only one he could confide in about _anything_. “You never even liked her.”

   “I'm good at reading people. She wasn't good for you, Cassie. I didn't want to make you upset, you seemed so bloody happy with her.” He squeezed his friend's shoulder tightly before letting go, hands lingering on Castiel's elbows. “I know I'm not one to talk about relationships, lord knows I can't keep a good man satisfied long enough to slip a ring on their finger. I really did want you to be _happy_.”

   Castiel hummed, “Well you know why she left?”

   Balthazar shook his head.

   “I think it's when I told her I was bisexual.”

   “Well that wasn’t really a secret to her was it?”

   Castiel squirmed from his friend's grip.

   “Cassie. My dear, stupid, sweet Cassie. Next time you find the love of your life. _TELL THEM_. You shouldn’t have to hide yourself from your lover. That bitch doesn't know what she gave up.”

   Castiel gave his friend a warm smile and sighed, “Got any wine? I don't care for the hard stuff I have at home and I’d rather not go home just yet... or ever.”

   “You can stay at my abode for as long as you wish. You know that. My cloths should fit you, or I’ll use my spare key and get an overnight bag for you. You can stay here in the meantime and play catch up.” he tapped the folder again.

   “Wont those other guys...” Castiel trailed off, motioning to the other room.

   “Oh, don't fret about those gentlemen. They're marvelous. You actually probably met them online in one of your newsgroups. We are all basically one big family. The heavy set gentleman with the beard is Wes and the other gentleman that looks like a male Martha Stuart is Brandon. Both hearts of gold. Ask them anything. You're like my little brother and they trust you too. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let me bring you here to our 'Fortress of Solitude'.”

   “Solitude implies solitude, Balth.” Castiel smirked.

   “Ok smartass, _solidarity_.” he grinned and gave his friend a half eaten sandwich, “Accept this as a gift of solidarity.”

   “Gee thanks.” Castiel chuckled but ate it anyway. He hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and it was pushing dinnertime.

   Balthazar left for Castiel’s house and he sent him a text asking for him to bring several sets of cloths. And that the luggage bags should be in the hall closet unless Meg took them too.

   Castiel turned his attention back to the documents before him. Sighing at the whole thing. No way could this be real. But, it seemed real enough. It took a long time to read through all the reports and with each new piece he was able to glean that there were three abductions of women in the woods and that some FBI agents were investigating them and they too disappeared. A photo came up of the agents from a motel camera and Castiel was startled to find out that he vaguely recognized the shorter one with the spiky hair. Somewhere in his mind there was a photo that popped up of this same man in his files but he strained to remember which one. He pulled it out and brought it out tentatively to the two men in the living room at the computers.

   “Uh, hello?”

   Wes looked up and grinned through his beard. “Hello, Castile?”

   “Castiel.” he corrected.

   “Odd name.”

   “Yes, I get that a lot.”

   “Course Balthazar is an odd name too.” Wes shrugged.

   “Yes, in primary school we would get teased for it, and even though he's a grade above me, he kinda took me under his wing. Like a guardian angel to my hapless self.” Castiel grinned.

   Wes grinned back. “He hasn't stopped taking in strays. We met in college. He thought I was gay, I wasn't, but that didn’t detour our friendship. He's a good guy. Didn't care that I was weird. I think he may be attracted to it like a moth. So, speaking of weird, did you get a chance to look at the information?”

   Castiel fidgeted a little and remembered the photo he was carrying. “This one. This FBI agent? He looks awfully familiar to me but I can't place him. Got any face recognition software? There wasn't a name to go with either of these guys in the reports.”

   “Ah, yeah, those two.” Wes declared, taking the photo and flicking it with his hand. “These guys are practically famous in our circles. No one has ever gotten to them to ask what they know but they seem to be at the center of some weird activity. Someone called them 'hunters' and to stay out of their way. That they're dangerous. That one here, the short one, he's supposed to be dead.”

   “Dead?”

   “Yup. Said he was a serial killer. Dean Winchester. Killed several women, sliced them up, and then was found shot dead shortly after, that was years ago. The state burned his corpse because no one come to claim the body. But, death didn’t stop this guy. He's been seen with this other tall one, Sam Smith, for years. They go by several alias's but it's almost always the same first names. Sam and Dean.”

   “Huh. I wonder if Smith is Sam's real last name.”

   "It's the only one we have to go by.”

   Castiel took the new information and borrowed Balthazar's laptop to do some more research on 'Dean Winchester and Sam'. If you knew what to look for it was easy. Turns out Dean had a brother named Sam and he was a spitting image of the other FBI agent in Freedersville. So they're brothers that hunt and pretend to be FBI. They were in the same area at the same time as the abductions and disappeared right after, three weeks ago. Castiel spent another half hour searching and found the car that they were driving. A black muscle car of some sort. Castiel wanted to go to Freedersville in the worst way to interview everyone possible for information about the monster or about those men. He needed to know more.

   Balthazar came back and found Castiel inches from the screen, trying to decipher if the men in the security footage matched the brothers at a different monster case he was working on. The roogaroo.

   “You spelled that wrong. It's Rugaru. Try searching for that at this website.” Balthazar leaned over and typed in a webpage and hit enter. “Found this a few days ago, well actually Brandon did. It's a kind of hunter's network for information. A how to guide to kill monsters.”

   “And you didn't think to tell me?”

   “You were at work, and it slipped my mind. I was too busy trying to make sure it's legit. You know how many vampire and werewolf pages there are out there? All with 'real' reports? I didn’t want to waste your time on another hoax when you actually have a boring day job.”

   “It pays the bills.” Castiel mumbled. He hated his job. Maybe he should quit and become a hunter. Seemed to be more exciting then working out the logistics of the theories his colleagues came up with. He had a hard time explaining his job to outsiders so he became as vague as possible to bore them out of asking for more info.

   “Well, if what we find out is true? We could blackmail these guys. Surely they wouldn't want their identities found out. This one's supposed to be dead but he's apparently alive and kicking, pretending to be FBI. Does that sound like a trustworthy individual?”

   “He's no more sketchy then we are. I'm sure you don't use your real name online when you're searching for the paranormal.”

   “The supernatural is no place for truth. But I get your point. Alright, both your boyfriends are off our hit list.”

   “He's not my boyfriend!”

   Balthazar raised an eyebrow, “Which one?”

   Castiel flushed and he shoved the photo under the stack of papers. “Where are my cloths?”

   “Still in my car. Come on. We're going home. You need a shower.”

   “I do n-”

   “Shut up, yes you do, let's go.” Balthazar gripped his shoulder and gave a snort to the trench coat that he had yet to shed. Just now noticing it. “Very Colombo of you.”

   “I like it.” he defended.

   “I agree, it suits you. However, you should at least wear a respectable suit to go with it. People are going to question my tastes if my dates wear sweatpants and a white t-shirt under trench coats. Gonna think I brought home another flasher.”

   “I don't understand...”

   “Nevermind. Fare thee well, gentlemen!” he called out and the others each raised a hand in parting. The trip to Balthazar's didn’t take as long and Castiel realized that he had been thoroughly turned around in getting to that house and a part of him hoped that it would stay off the radar. Searching for the real truths of this world was a dangerous sport. And those two in the photograph, the hunter brothers, were right in the middle of some deep shit. He hoped they were being careful. And that he would someday meet them, to pick their brains on what they found in their line of work. Sure there were other hunters in the world, must be, but these two were the only ones that he knew about semi-personally. Some face and minor history to go with the title.

   “If you find out anything more on those two hunters, let me know, ok Balth?”

   “Hmm?” he asked, driving 2 mph below the speed limit to keep from being pulled over.

   “I have a feeling that they don't know the trouble they’re in. There are _real agents_ after them, and if they are out there as these so called 'hunters' hunting down supernatural creatures, then they are in way over their heads. They might need help. That thing in the photo's is probably real, and if that's the case. There’s no way in hell that two humans can do anything against that.”

   “What's done is done. Frank said that the government already found that monster.”

   “Where at? When you said found I didn't think 'captured'. I thought you meant spotted it, how could they capture it?”

   “I don't know, that's what the reports alleged. Some big showdown deep in the woods. Declared that it's dead. They were hauling something out of the woods after a huge firefight mistaken for fireworks by locals. A military issue helicopter pulled a huge bundle out of Harkade Valley yesterday. They tried to keep it a secret but our community found out and the news is spreading as we speak. Not far enough for the public to know but everyone in the know already knows, you know?”

   “Riddles Balth. Speak plainly.”

   “The dragon was taken from the valley yesterday by some government agency. And no, this isn’t your typical conspiracy. All the air traffic was diverted that night as they pulled it out and took it somewhere. Too much wilderness to track the helicopter, but I’d guess they took it somewhere underground. Literally and figuratively. The thing is probably deceased. Judging by how much firepower was shot at that one spot in the valley. Citizens thought it was a fireworks show in the town to the north beyond the woods, saw flashes in the night sky and all that. Bloody idiots.”

   “I don't think it was a dragon.”

   “Now who's the bloody idiot?”

   “Dragons? Really Balth?”

   “Dragons. Is there an echo in here. _Dragons_. Bloody-flying-fire-breathing-woman-stealing- **dragons**.”

   “Not virgins.” Castiel's finger in the air proudly.

   “You try finding a virgin.” Balthazar said flippantly.

   “Balthazar, stop.” Castiel said looking out the windshield.

   “Not till you concede - ”

   “No! Stop sign Ba-!” the car screeched and lurched forward before it halted bruisingly well past the stop sign, a passing car swerved quickly to get out of the way, honking like mad after the danger was averted. After a moment of panting and quaking, Castiel murmured quietly, “You’re welcome for the seat belt.”

   “Shut up, Cassie.” he spat back, but then grinned and pulled out again after the other traffic left. “Ok fine, for saving my life with my seat belt, I will find your dragon slaying prince. Alright?”

   Castiel blushed again. “Deal.” he said as a joke. The car drove on and Castiel wondered if Dean Winchester was as handsome in real life as he was in the photo's.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

   “ _Dean Michael Winchester_! You get your scaly ass over here right now!”

   The dragon snuffle snorted a laugh as he hid behind the destroyed school bus on the furthest edge of the scrapyard.

   “Dude! Seriously! You can't just run off after setting fire to Bobby's porch!”

   Dean huffed, annoyed, it wasn’t like he intended to set fire to the porch. He just _sneezed_! He kept on hiding anyway. He couldn’t exactly explain what really happened and he couldn’t put the blame on anything else. Unless crickets were able to spontaneously combust, he was busted.

   A squealing van pulled into the long driveway leading up to the auto detailing barn. Sam's heart stopped. “Oh God.” he muttered. His eyes scanning frantically around the yard, searching for any sign of his brother.

   “Keep calm. It's just a customer. I'll find out what they want and send them off while you find him and keep him hidden.”

   “Ok.” he said and ducked down behind the house, hoping that Dean was out of sight. This would be the first person besides Bobby and Sam that Dean had seen since turning into a dragon. Who knows how he would react to strangers. Hostile? Like they were invading territory? Oh hell. Sam scanned the area and saw a small reflection of movement behind something huge and yellow. Some metal hulk that was a school bus at some time. A curt wing flap. A low growl. “ _Oh shit_!” Sam ran full tilt towards the thing and patted Dean's back. He startled and yelped before Sam grabbed his huge head in both arms and pinned his mouth shut in a hug. “Shh!!!”

   Dean grumbled and a few whining chirps were muffled. He shook his head free and chirped quietly, annoyed at Sam. Some long speech apparently in Dean's new native tongue.

   “Dean, I still don't know what the hell you're saying but if your saying that Bobby's in trouble, he's not. He's working. This is what he does. You _know_ this! He takes all these cars and pulls them apart and sells them to people that come for them. They are not invading his territory. See? No burn marks.”

   Dean looked around them, at the salvage yard's edges. And indeed, there were no burn marks anywhere save for a few cars that were in some car accidents years ago. Not fires made on purpose. Those would be at the edges all around, circling the property. Dean huffed again. He would just have to help Bobby mark out his territory. Warning out these squealing bipeds. Bobby doesn't need anyone else. He's got Sam and him to protect him and his land. Dean could hunt and feed them and Sam can help do other things too. Dean thought about how, and thankfully that kept him busy for the few minutes that the customer was in the scrap yard. Dean perked his head up to look through the windows of the bus to see Bobby wave the girl off and turn back to the house.

   “Sam? You find that tweeting flame thrower of yours?”

   “Yeah, we're over here.” Sam waved. Dean ducked back.

   Bobby strode on over and frowned when he saw Dean's bowed head. “Boy, why in the hell did you set fire to my porch? If you were cold I could have gotten out a heater for you in the barn.”

   “He doesn't like the barn I guess.” Sam shrugged.

   “Well since he grew last night he can't even fit in the house without my doors creaking. Best not to let him sleep inside anymore, unless it's in the panic room in the basement. The pentagram sunroof is the only opening big enough for him now.”

   Dean bowed his head further. They've been at Bobby's for nearly a week now and every night he spent on the bed as it shrunk underneath him during the night. Soon, only his body and neck were being held by the bed, limbs and wings draped off the sides. The bed's frame finally gave out with a ground shaking thump that sent Sam diving for his gun and Bobby cursing up an impressive storm. He spent the rest of that night downstairs curled up in front of the couch. Banishing himself from the bedroom he half destroyed. He already missed the house's warmth. This morning they awoke to find him even larger then the night before, with an empty protesting stomach. A trace of blood was found on a claw but Sam refused to acknowledge it. Dean went hunting that night, and it must have been _big_ for him to grow this much. Probably an animal in the woods since Bobby's wasn't close to any dairy farms. Sam noted that Dean did most of his growing at night as he slept. And he was a _sleeper_. When Dean was human it was a scant 4 hours a night, now it was closer to 12. Sam blamed 'food coma' but at the nest site, his mother insisted that he eats at least 50-70 lbs a day after the first week. His rapidly growing body _demanded_ food.

   Sam refused to feed him so much for breakfast now, and instead gave him only 20 lbs of venison. Dean's stomach growled again, not for the last time that day and Sam gave an apologetic look to him. “I'm sorry, Bro. But you can't grow up too fast too soon. We don't have a barn big enough for a full grown dragon yet. All of Bobby's barns are full of cars. Give us a day to empty his storage garage and that should be enough room for your full grown form. Can you help us with that?”

   Dean shrugged a little. Understanding a little more of what he was saying. Sam led him to the garage and tied up a makeshift sled to a long rope. Instructing Dean to pull it out however he see's fit. Dean settled for pulling with his teeth, scuttling backwards versus being strung up like a work horse. He liked the pull on his teeth, like taking down prey. He longed for another beast to kill. Something with some fight in it. A bull maybe. A bear. Yeah. A _bear_.

   Sam noticed Dean stop and look towards the wooded area off to the side of the salvage yard. He chirruped to himself in thought. “Dean?” Sam asked, walking up to his taller brother. Dean's shoulder now coming up to the upper part of sam's chest. Damn. He was getting big. Like a full grown horse now instead of a foal. He must have found something else to eat for brunch. A raccoon maybe. A stray dog. Sam grimaced. It was a good thing Bobby didn't have a guard dog anymore. Spare it being lunch to a ravenous maw. Dean dropped the rope and started for the woods. Sam dropped his load of cables and chased after him.

   “Dean! Where are you going?”

   Dean chirped at him and kept on trotting. Sam winced a little, crying out in pain as his ribs jarred again. It seemed like they'll never heal right if he keeps working so hard. Dean stopped immediately. He turned around and saw Sam hold his side, wincing again and panting. Dean turned around and walked back. Sighing heavily. His little brother wasn't healing as fast as he thought. How could he be so fragile? Still? It was days since they got to Bobby's nest. Five? Six? Dean gave up remembering. 'Sammy? You should go rest.' he grumble chirruped. Nosing at the ribs and giving an disapproving look. 'You shouldn't be out here if you hurt that bad.'

   “Dean, come on. Help me to the house would ya? Keep me company?”

   Dean sighed heavily at him. 'Ok' he chirped and then nodded. Brother couldn't ever understand him. No matter how slow he talked or often he repeated the same chirps. It seemed to all sound the same to Sam. Was he this slow when he was biped? He remembered thinking that Sam was the smart one. Maybe he could figure out a way to talk between them.

   He let Sam use his wings to help hold him up, being too tall now for Sam to easily just swing up onto his back. Sam would need a step stool now. Or to at least be agile enough to swing a leg over and hop up. Just walking seemed to hurt him. Dean made sure his fragile little brother got settled onto a chair and got off the porch again, only glancing at the burn mark once. It was an _accident_.

   “Why did you do that anyway? I'm not mad, I'm just curious.”

   Dean just looked at him. Furrowed his brow in frustration and looked away. Why did Sam always ask him questions that were more then yes or no?

   “Are you angry or something?”

   Dean huffed. 'No, I'm annoyed. I want you to understand me.' He looked over his shoulder and settled on the ground. 'But you don't,' his chirps sounded clipped. 'And you _wont_.' He grumbled.

   “Are you hungry?”

   Dean nodded. At last, yes or no questions.

   “Ok, I'll get you some snacks.” Sam held a breath as he stood up to go inside. Damn, would his ribs ever heal?

   Dean stood at once, shaking his head. He put his front feet on the porch and blocked the door with his wing, gently pushing back on Sam, moving him towards the chair.

   “I don't like being herded, Dean. I'm not a kid.”

   'You and me both, Brother.' Dean smirk chirped. 'I’ll hunt my own food. That's what I was going to do anyway.'

   “I miss your voice.” Sam sighed getting back into his chair.

   Dean's green eyes cast down. 'Me too.'

   A moment passed as they got settled again. Sam didn't want him hunting alone apparently. Every time he looked to the woods, Sam's breath hitched and he looked like he was readying to get up too. Maybe Bobby would go hunting with him?

   Dean looked over to Bobby who was elbow deep in a van 100 feet away. Dean turned to make sure Sam saw him and nodded towards Bobby. 'I'm just gonna go over there.' he chirruped back. Sam nodded, and pointed at Dean and then Bobby over exaggeratedly. 'Yeah, me to Bobby.' he grinned. 'Just stay here.'

   Dean got up and stretched. He then took a few steps and stretched his wings up too, once he was clear of the porch's awning and nearby trees. Giving a few flaps to loosen the muscles that had been cramped up all day. His front half actually lifted off the ground. He slowed the flaps and then held them out. Looking at his wings oddly. He flapped some more, give it a little more force and his front half lifted further, back half felt lighter too.

   Sam gave a worried cry. “Dean?!”

   Dean just looked back, flapped a few times until he was a little airborne, enough to tip toe around and grin at Sam. He landed with a heavy thump. 'Don't worry Sammy, I'm not going anywhere. Just stretching.' he chirped a little, it ended in a screech that surprised even him. 'What the hell?' his chirp screeched a little again. Like a strained chirp. 'Ok, that's weird.'

   “Dean? Are you ok? You hurt?” Sam was already up and closing in.

   'I’m just talking, Dude. Talking and stretching my wings.' He shrieked, flapping again. Sounding much more like a bald eagle then pigeon. The wind tussled Sam's hair around until he put a hand to his forehead to hold it back from his eyes. 'You look ridiculous!' Dean screeched merrily at him. Flapping forward a little to mess up Sam's hair and ended up skidding backwards. 'Whoa these things are _strong_.'

   “Sam, what's he doing? Why is he making that noise?”

   “I think... no. It's too early for that.”

   “What is?”

   Sam started laughing, then clutched his side, wheezing and laughing. “Dean! You're going through _puberty_!”

 _This_ screech was definitely not words, it was just a screech of surprise. His wings faltered a little. 'No way.' He shook his head. The growl coming out a little strained, pinched.

   “He ages faster. I guess it's even faster then we thought.”

   Dean pursed his mouth shut, not wanting to embarrass himself further. He flapped a few more times and got all four legs off the ground. He thumped back to the earth and folded his wings back up. They were starting to ache a little, not having been used and then straining them by lifting his body. He knew that if he practiced more they wouldn’t hurt so bad but why? He didn’t want to fly. He was still having nightmares about the one time he tried flying and was scared of how high he was. Then the tree attacking him and getting tangled in its branches, trying to force him underwater. He shivered at the memory. No. No flying. EVER.

   Sam stared thoughtfully at Dean. He could still read his body language in this form but what was going on in his head was almost never easy to decipher. Dean, _human_ Dean, always had these inner monologs just running when he wasn’t saying anything. It was obvious to anyone that knew Dean well that he was always thinking. Dean himself insisted that Sam was the smart one but he never gave himself credit. Why couldn’t they both be the smart one? Dean's was more street smart and Sam book smart. Though its not like that they were limited to that. Sam could come up with the most ingenious ways of taking down a monster on the fly and Dean's leaps in connections when researching were phenomenal. Cases that were miles apart were fit together in his head, and in doing so helped track down several monsters that crossed state lines.

   Dean's inner monolog now seemed to be about flying. Debating on if he wants to or not. He knew that Dean's instincts might take over but by how much and when? Fight or literal flight? Would his human fear of flying overcome his body's building desire? Dean's wings twitched as a breeze fluttered the folds.

   Sam had a sinking feeling that Dean was only sticking around long enough till Sam's ribs healed. Then he'd be off, flying or walking back to his surrogate mother and nest. The world that this body knew. He literally wasn’t built for life amongst humans anymore.

   Bobby came running back from the van, looking at his phone and gave a worried glance to the brothers. He didn’t say a word but nodded for Sam to join him inside. Sam gave a swift nod back and said, “Bobby and I need to talk, you can stay out here and do some stretches. Or maybe help clear out more of the barn. Make it how you want it.”

   Dean screeched, 'Ok, I guess. If you need me I’ll be right here.' He dutifully stood guard outside of the house. Turning his head so his side fan ears could pick up their conversation. He heard two sets of doors open then close. They were deep inside the house now. Dean's brow furrowed. They didn’t want him hearing what they were saying. He got up and went around the house, looking up at the second story windows. They must be upstairs because the basement's door doesn’t sound like that. Are they in a closet?

   “Ok Sam, I'm pretty sure he can't hear us in here.”

   “Bobby, why are we in a closet?”

   “I just got a text from our hunting party that went out to find Dean weeks ago. They stuck around after the werewolf hunt that pulled them away and said that the real FBI is snooping all over the place. They found out that you and Dean weren't really working for the agency and are pissed. They're trying to track you two down, but not for impersonating agents. They found out why you guys were there in the woods, they know you two are hunters. They also know what was really in those woods.”

   “Shit.” Sam breathed. “Anything else?”

   “I'm waiting to hear -” Bobby's phone buzzed again. “Speak of the devil.”

   They both looked at the screen and their hearts sunk. Sam kicked the wall, making a deep indent.

 

_They found the dragon. They either killed or sedated her and took her out of harkade valley in a military helicopter. They werent subtle about it and the whole community will know by the end of the week. Civilians havent a clue thank god. But every hunter around here has to keep an eye out._

 

   Another text followed right after.

 

_Bobby they said they found evidence of a second dragon. It was being taken south in a car. Did you want to tell us something?_

 

   Bobby's hand shook. This can't be real. They were careful! They didn't let anyone see Dean at all, they took back roads nearly the whole way. They only stopped for gas and potty breaks. Dammit.

   “Bobby, they probably found the cow Dean ate. Fuck. How could  _anyone_ make that connection?!! One dead cow about 300 miles away from that valley!”

   “Calm down, Sam. Let's just think this through.”

   "They know we took Dean.”

    “No, they _think_ that we took a dragon. They don't know for sure. We just have to come up with a plausible excuse. They didn't say that they think Dean is the dragon. We told them that Dean died and they believed us.”

    “What good does that do? When they hunt down and kill Dean they'll think they did a  _good_ thing!” Sam paced in the small space of the walk in closet. Bobby thumped the phone to his hip and then held it up again. “What are you typing?”

   “That we will find the second dragon and kill it ourselves. That we can't let something like that escape and get away with killing Dean and the other women. I'll ask them to let us handle this. A revenge hunt. I'll throw a few f-bombs in there to emphasize my point.” Bobby smirked.

   After a few minutes of waiting in silence Bobby got a text back.

 

_Good hunting. We will keep an ear out for information. Post pictures of it when youre done gutting it. Just for our peace of mind. Be careful._

 

   Bobby grinned under his brim and replied back, talking while typing for Sam's benefit. “Good hunting to you too. And keep in touch.”

 

   Dean paced back and forth, trying desperately to hear what's going on inside. It can't be good if they didn’t want him to hear it. Or maybe it had something to do with something inside the house and it was just his bad luck that Dean couldn’t join them inside to help. He snorted angrily. They could have at least told him what was going on. He strutted around the yard. Looking up at the bare car piles that bordered the yard. 'Why doesn't Bobby have any markings at all to show his territory? He has a flamethrower, I remember that much.' Dean screeched a little mixed with the strained chirps. He kept his mouth shut when the barely audible murmurs stopped. A door opened and a head popped out of the second story window on the left. Bobby's bedroom.

   “You ok?” Sam called down.

   Dean huffed in annoyance and shook his head. 'No. Tell me what you're keeping from me.' he screamed a little louder.

   “Shit! Quiet!” he barked. “I'm coming back down now. Just, shut up for a minute!”

   Dean growled after Sam ducked back into the window and shut it. 'Tell me to shut up?' he growled to himself.

   Sam left the house with Bobby shortly behind. “What's the matter?” Sam tried again, hobbling down the porch steps.

    'The matter? What's the  _matter?_ Oh I don't know. Lets start with you not trusting me? Keeping shit from me? Taking me away from  _Mother_ ! How about that, Sam!' He screamed louder, turning into a half formed roar. Still too young to make one as terrifying as the mother but still, coming from something as big and intimidating as a pissed off adolescent dragon made the human's pause. 

   “Dean, I'm sorry I can't -”

    'Yeah I fuckin' know. I GET IT. You can't understand me. You think I'm just a  _monster_ growling at you. Well I can't fuckin' help that all you're hearing right now is a growl! Now ask me a yes or no question, SAM!'

   Sam backed up onto the porch again, Bobby at his side. “Is he gonna...”

   “I don't know. Just. Hold off on that tranq gun.” Sam murmured.

    Dean couldn't stop the underlying growl deep in his throat. He strut off again when the bipeds just whispered some more at each other. 'Fine, go ahead and not trust me. See if I care. Fucking bipeds.' he snarled and stomped off a little ways away. Pacing. He looked up and saw the fence line again. No marks. That had been bugging him for days now. 'If you're not gonna mark your territory then maybe I will. Had plenty of chances to do it. Well, I'm here now. This is now  _mine_ . I'm gonna protect you in my land. Everyone that sees this place will know it's being protected. Defended.' he growled and made for the entrance to the yard. That got a reaction. Sam and Bobby bolted inside and got out two long rifles with feathery darts shoved inside, crammed with the herb mixture to knock him out cold. 

    Dean reached the entrance far faster then the others, with his longer gait it was easy. He looked up to the sign for 'Singer Salvage' and opened his mouth. He set fire to the other side of the sign, and then blew out the flames after a minute. His wings smacked the smoldering embers until all that was left was a dying glow. He then went to the other side of the entrance and set fire to the post supporting a line of hubcaps. The metal was superheated and nearly glowing when he was done. He placed his right wing over them as well. Making sure they didn't burn the fence down. Bobby and Sam caught up to him just as he was climbing up one stack of cars to set fire to the neighboring stack close to the top. Not yet tall enough for the flames to reach so high with him standing on the ground. He leaped over to a few more stacks and did the same every 30 feet or so. 

    Sam aimed his dart rifle back downward and looked to Bobby to do the same. “He uh, since earlier when that customer came, he motioned that you didn't have any burn marks to show your territory.”  


   “Oh really. He thinks this is  _helping?_ ”

   “In his mind, yeah. He wants you to be safe here. Us to be safe.”

   “He's not thinking clearly. All this is gonna do is wave a great big burned flag that something ain’t right here.”

   “He doesn't see it like that. This is how his kind does it.” 

   “Well, just.. I don't know. Make sure he doesn't burn down anything useful. I'm gonna grab the fire extinguisher just in case.” Bobby fumed. “And tell that boy to keep his fire breathin' ass away from the house! That is mine and I will mark it however I please!”

   Sam chuckled, “and just how...”

   “Never you mind. Just make sure alright?”

   “Yeah, Bobby.”

   By this time, Dean had nearly made a full circle around and was down to small spit fires. He was exhausted and hungry and fanned what little flame was left with his wing so that the tall wooden fencepost would catch more on fire, waited and then after a few minutes blew it out. Smothering it with the same wing. The post leaned a little from the force and Dean grabbed it with his wing thumb and righted it again. Shoving it further into the ground until he was satisfied that it wasn’t going anywhere.

   He jumped down gracefully from the stack of trucks and strutted proudly up to Sam. 'There. Now we don't have to worry about anything coming in here. I got this. You're safe here now.' He chirruped. Only a minor screech involved.

   Sam wondered if the voice change had anything to do with mood swings. Dean sure seemed proud and happy right now and more together. “Good job.” He announced and patted Dean on the back. Rubbing his shoulders a little. Dean grinned back and hugged Sam with a wing.

   'Thanks. It wasn't too bad.' Dean chirped. 'And Bobby didn't challenge me at all for it. He must want me to have this.' he spread a wing out to indicate the whole area. Front feet together and sat down majestically. Felt good to have a territory. Right.

   “Well, I don't know about you but I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.”

   'Horse? We have horse here?' Dean asked, looking around for some kind of stable or paddock he somehow missed. Sam couldn’t suppress the full belly laughs that rocked through his body, his ribs screaming but he didn’t care. The look on his brother's face was priceless!

   “Come on Puff, we still have some gator left over before I gotta make a food run.”

   'Could just let me hunt my own food. I'm old enough, strong enough.' Dean replied and then huffed again, he pointed to himself and then the woods and pantomimed taking down an animal and eating it.

   Sam watched the dragon wiggle his butt and pounce after something invisible and ripping into the air with teeth. Making a big show of swallowing it like a duck swallowing water. Dean then looked up to Sam, still hunched over the invisible kill and tore off a piece and held up an open fore paw to Sam. Quirking an eyebrow ridge and smirking. He then 'threw up' some invisible meat, cupped it in his hand and offered that instead. Huffing repeatedly in a laugh. Then tossed it at Sam who dutifully made gagging noises and swiping motions to get the muck off of his shirt. Then proceeded to 'vomit' as well.

   Dean rolled over laughing so hard. Wings beat the air all around and giggles wracking his huge body. He rolled to his back, breathing heavily as he twitched here and there, huge toothy grin on his face. Sam wiped his hands off on his jeans and walked up to face Dean's upside down head. Kneeling on either side of it. Very mindful of the horns against his inner thighs. Dean licked his lips and stomach rumbled again.

   “If you wanted tofu salad all you had to do was ask.”

   Dean snorted at him and reached up with his forelegs to pull Sam down and forward. Sam yelped as his whole body was easily lifted up and forced to bear hug Dean's chest. Sam's face ended up near where Dean's belly button would be if he had one, as Dean hugged Sam with his wings as well. Pinning him down easily. Dean grabbed a leg in each hand and gnawed playfully on Sam's boots as his massive clawed legs kicked about the air in glee. Messing with Sam was fun!

   “No Dean! I'm not a salad!” voice muffled into Dean's soft scales. Both hands pushing against his brother and trying to find a ticklish spot. Of course, no such luck with all those thick scales. Lucky bastard. Armpit? Sam's fingers dug in and Dean pinched his hand there with little force. Nope.

   'You are what you eat, Sammy.' Dean rumble laughed underneath him. 'I'm gonna eat my little brother because I'm the younger brother now.' Pulling off and spitting out a boot.

   Sam got worried as Dean was about to take a sharp bite out of Sam's socked foot. But was surprised when Dean theatrically inhaled greatly, lifting Sam into the air with the chest expanding, then coughing at the smell of dirty feet.

    Dean shoved Sam off, gently, mindful of the ribs and got up after rolling side to side to get some leverage. Wings constantly in the way. He took a few steps back to fake gag again but startled a sneeze out. A small flame shot out of his mouth, body tingling afterwards. 

    Sam laughed some more, reaching for his stolen spit covered boot and lacing it back up. “So that's what happened to Bobby's porch. You  _sneezed_ !”

   Dean nodded. Glad that was out of the way. He loved to hear Sam laugh like that. Ever since Dean screwed up that hunt so spectacularly, Sam always looked so beat. Researching constantly for the past week with Bobby, looking for a cure to get him back to normal. Like it was his fault somehow. But Dean liked being like this! Maybe it had some downsides but really, how cool was it to be so big and strong! Powerful! He would be way better hunting down monsters in this form then before. Sam could flush them out of the buildings and Dean could take them out once they get outside. No problem. He was flameproof and huge with bigger claws and teeth then just about anything else they had come across before!

   Granted, he hadn't hunted yet in this form. At least nothing more evil then a cow and that deer last night. Damn that was good meat. The hardest part was sneaking out after Sam and Bobby fell asleep. And then washing up again in Bobby's small pond far far out back behind his property. Dean wasn't sure if it belonged to this plot of land, but it will soon enough. Dean just has to get some food in his belly to refuel his fire. He looked to all the burn marks and sighed. He didn't really want to steal Bobby's territory from him. Maybe he could find his own, to share with Sam since Sam didn't have his own either. Ok, this can stay Bobby's. How much space does Bobby want? As far as Dean knows, no other dragons are anywhere close. All of this land could be his dadfriend's. Come to think of it. He can't remember seeing any dragons in his past life before meeting Mother. At least, none like himself. There were those others but they were biped dragons. Imposters.

   “Whats going on in that head of yours? You been quiet the whole time I was setting up the grill.” Sam said walking back over. Dean didn't realize he left.

   The dragon thought about how to answer Sam. But got distracted easily. He noticed his prints in the sand and held out a clawed finger to it. Doodling for a second, then going to a clearer spot, making a rough circle. Then stared at it. 'O' he thought. 'O' is a letter. Or it's a number, meaning nothing, zero. He made a straight line down from it and as he kept drawing more ideas popped up, first one was of a sucker. A Popsicle. Then two more lines joined it at the bottom. An arrow? With a circle for a tip. What kind of arrow... Flaming arrow maybe. No, keep drawing. Another line cut the longest line in half. There we go. That's a stick figure.

    Sam rubbed a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes. Several expressions warring on his face. His scent changed over and over. Becoming strong with something. Anxiety? He looked hopefully up at Dean and back to the sandy dirt. He knelt down and drew another stick figure. And pointed to himself. He then pointed to the one Dean made and pointed to Dean. “You  _remember_ .” Sam breathed, tears were prickling his eyes and he wiped his face again. “I wasn't sure. I thought you forgot... I couldn't be  _sure_ ...” Sam rambled. “I thought maybe you had an instinct to trust us, imprinted on us, maybe. Or you comprehend like one of us, but you didn't actually  _remember being human.”_

    Dean cocked his head at Sam. Did his brother really think Dean forgot about old life? 'I remember you.' he softly cooed assurance. Sam wiped his eyes a few more times, looking like he wanted a hug. Dean stretched his wings out and folded them around Sam as the biped, no,  _human_ crouched on the ground next to the two stick figures. Sam grabbed Dean's wing thumbs like a kid would grab their parents hands. He pulled himself up and hugged Dean's neck. Nearly as wide as he is. Dean brought the wings closer, so all he saw of Sam was the tuft of brown hair at the top. Sam chuckled. Dean's head was a foot higher then his but he didn’t care. Sam was cool with being the shorter brother again. Might as well get used to it now since Dean seems to be growing a few inches a day. At least he was  _alive_ . And so long as Dean's alive, there's hope for a cure.

   A rumble grew from one of them and Sam was sure it wasn't him. Dean let go and gave a sheepish look to his side under a wing. Folding his wings back to muffle the nearly constant commentary of stomach growls.

   “In a minute. Its gotta cook.” Sam chided. “For now, I want to try something. You up for a game?”

   Dean cocked his head a little. Of course he's ready. He'd been so bored with the only chores hes been given was to stay out of sight and to haul crap from the barn. He dared not do anything else because even just stretching his wings made his brother give him a funny look, like he was gonna hurt himself. Dean's mind wandered a moment. Or maybe, Sam was worried he'd take off on him. Fly away. But to where? Home? His mother? Now there's a thought.

   Sam took a few steps out and used his shoes to brush away some small debris from an area of sand and dry dirt. He then grabbed a car's antennae that was laying on the ground and started to make lines in the dirt. Dean wasn't really paying attention. He was just thinking about how much he missed his mother. She's probably worried about him. The sounds she was making when she found out he'd left. They were so sad. Hopeless. A whimper escaped his mouth and Sam stopped his drawing to look up at him.

   “What's wrong? It's ok, we're gonna start slow. I know you probably forgot your letters and numbers but if this works we can actually talk to each other. Or like, you can talk to me. I'm just glad as hell you understand me, that takes care of one problem.” Sam grinned confidently.

   Dean cast his gaze down at his brother again and whined.

   “It's ok. Don't worry. I'm not judging you for not knowing English words.”

    'English. That's what it's called. Sam's speaking English.' Dean mumbled to himself. 'Wonder what dragon's English is called.'

   “Yeah. Words. Ok, so get this, this is called the alphabet.” Sam grinned, pointing out the 5 rows of symbols. They did look familiar but foreign at the same time. Sam pointed to the weird triangle with legs, “A” and then to the drawing of boobs. “B” and then to a half circle. “C” and then the circle cut in half, “D”. Sam took his pointer and a little ways away from the Alpha Bet, (was there an Omega Bet?) he then wrote out 4 of the letters in a row, pointing to it and then to him. “This is your name. Dean. D - E - A - N. and mine is Sam, S – A - M. and this is Bobby's, B - O - B - B - Y, now, can you write them out?”

   Dean looked to the symbols and used his right index finger pointed out and others curled in loosely, his finger dexterity was shit lately. Using his wing thumbs too much, he chastised himself. Just as he was about to start tracing, Bobby burst through the door. Striding up to the brothers. “Get inside.”

   “What?”

   “Get inside right now.”

   “What about Dean?”

   “Get him into the panic room right the fuck  _now_ .” Bobby hissed, sounding like he wanted to shout but kept a low pitch. Dean backed up from the tone of his voice. Something wasn’t right. His wings spread and he looked around as if they were under attack. “Dean! Fold in, get down, and shut up!” He ordered and pulled at the leading edge of Dean's left wing to fold it down. Dean complied, and crouched low, looking up at Bobby, waiting for clearer orders. Surely he'd want a  _dragon_ to fight whatever was coming?

   “Dean, come with me.” Sam said, gesturing for the side of the house. Dean huffed but then did as he was told, following his brother to the side as a car was heard coming down the road. Dean perked up but Sam looked too alarmed. He looked up to Dean's head and pulled at his thick long neck to lower it. Dean ducked down and crawled after Sam as best he could. Last he saw of Bobby was him getting something from inside a car and then going to the front entryway to the salvage yard.

   Sam guided him to the skylight of the panic room and Dean sneered at it but helped Sam lift the cover and awkwardly climbed down into the metal cage. The door was open and Dean looked like he wanted to go through it. Sam was at the top opening and said, “No! Shut the door, Dean. I promise it wont be locked, we can't let anyone find you. Can you shut it?”

   Dean looked to the door and nodded, grabbing the metal support rods with his teeth and pulling, shutting it as best he could. He then went to the skylight and stood on top of the cot, reaching up with his head and wings. Sam saw the offer and said, “I don't know if Bobby wants me down there too. But I can take the stairs.” Sam said hastily and put the skylight window back and covered it with some junk to hide it. Dean moaned a little but stopped when he heard Sam shush him intently.

    Sam made sure it was well hidden and walked closer to Bobby, but still in the shadows. He saw the marks that he made for Dean to learn English and cursed himself for forgetting such an obvious clue. Or maybe it wasn't? Oh who was he kidding. Stupid mistake!  _Stupid stupid_ .

   Whoever Bobby was talking to hadn't come too far into the property yet. He couldn’t make out what was being said but Bobby led him to the backyard to show where the funeral pyre was. Sam bolted out and quickly kicked the dirt back over the letters and stick figures. Making sure it was unrecognizable and bolted back into hiding again. Waiting for some kind of signal or order.

   “Sam?” Bobby called, “Sam come on out here and say hi to my friends.”

   Sam went into the front door of the house and came out the back. “Hey. How ya doing? My name's Sam. Good to meet you.” He held out his hand and shook the two other men's hands. Noticing one girl that was hanging back. Crap. He hadn’t noticed her before. Did she see what he did before coming over?

   “Hello, my name's Azazel, Joseph Azazel.” The man sounded too smug for Sam's tastes. Mr. Azazel had very light colored eyes, in the setting sunlight they actually seemed to be cloudy yellow. It was very unnerving so Sam averted his eyes soon after, looking towards the others.

   “Hey, my name is Nick Lucifer. Not the devil, heh, just an unfortunate combination of my parent's last names.” he chuckled. Birthmarks riddled his skin close to his hairline, and he had a much calmer demeanor then the others. Sam was almost liking this guy. If he was Bobby's friend, maybe these guys were hunters. That would explain their odd personalities.

   “And this here, is my daughter, Lilith.” Nick introduced a younger girl who smiled wide at Sam and shook his hand happily.

    “I'm so glad to meet you!” She said in a saccharine way. She was maybe 13 years old, blond and wearing a dress. Sam thought it odd for a hunter to bring such a young girl hunting, especially in a dress. But, he's met all kinds. This has got to be the world's most messed up version of 'bring your daughter to work' day he's ever seen. She was probably adopted by Nick, they looked nothing alike. Sam figured that she was a lone survivor of a monster attack and Nick ended up with her. Sam had a way of reading people and just  _knew_ that they were not blood related, but she was still his daughter.

   “Sam, these gentlemen and lady wanted to give Dean their respects. They heard about what happened and knew that we would have brought his body here for a hunter's funeral.” Bobby explained.

    Sam nodded, glassy eyed, and wiped his face with his hand, then brushed back his hair as a visual hint of self calming. He read somewhere that people stroke their own hair to calm their own nerves, like subconscious petting. Not wanting to overdue it, he put those subtle clues out. He had to be in mourning. “Yeah, thanks. It's been. It's been, like up's and down's. You know? We've all lost someone. It's how you know, many of us got into the business.” he exhaled out his nose and wiped his face again. Brushing his hair back behind his ears. Avoiding looking at the burnt wood. 

   Nick piped up in that soothing voice, “Yes, I know. I've lost my wife and infant son to a monster. That's how I found out about the things that go bump in the night. Years later I was involved in another hunt and the only one in the family of 4 I could save was my little Lilith. My precious angel.” He wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders and she beamed up at him. Seemingly unaffected about the words being said, about her family being killed. Maybe it was a coping mechanism?

   Sam nodded thoughtfully and a part of his mind said, 'Called it. Two points for Sam.' The rest of his mind chastised it viciously.

   Azazel spoke up next. “So, how did your brother die? Exactly?”

    Bobby turned to glare at him, “It was a hunt gone wrong. Dean went after what he thought was a Vellum, solo. Sam was busy searching for any survivors. Things went bad in a hurry. Turns out that it wasn't a Vellum at all. It was some kind of massive thing with wings and it tore Dean apart. Sam here is lucky to have found anything left at all.” Bobby wiped his face off and blew his nose. The others looked down at the burn marks out of respect. Bobby continued, “We brought his body home and burned him a week ago. At least, we had  _something_ to burn. Damned monster.” Bobby spit onto the ground in disgust. “You ever hear of it showing up you let me know so we can finish the job Dean started. We owe him that much.”

   “Agreed. Yeah.” Nick said, his eyes shone with sympathy towards Sam and Bobby. “That's kinda why we're here.”

   Sam straightened up a little. “You found something?”

   “You could say that. Turns out there's evidence that someone found your big bad. They actually caught the damned thing and air lifted it out of the woods you were hunting in. Different reports all over the area are saying different things so it depends on who you can trust.” Nick looked to Sam and held his gaze for a moment.

    “Anything. If you've got information I’ll give anything for it. That bastard killed my brother. I'm gonna be the one that brings it down.” Sam made a fist and shook it in the air towards the burn marks in the dirt. “It's responsible for so many deaths. Bobby and I discovered that this isn't the first time it struck. Every 50 years or so it kills about 6 people. Dean was the 4 th . I'm kinda glad someone got it before two more were taken. But. I want to be the one to kill it.” He looked to Mr. Azazel and then Nick. “I'm in. Just tell me who got it and where they took it.”

   “Whoa whoa, it's not that simple. Uncle Sam has the beast now.”

    “ _What?!_ ”

   “Yup. Military issue helicopters were in the area for days before that bundle of joy was bagged and lifted out. There were flights grounded everywhere in the area so by the time they left the no fly zone they must have lost any tails they might have had.”

   “So we have nothing. No idea where they took it.”

   “'fraid not.”

    Sam kicked a log from the fire, it tumbled over itself and the others for 20 feet. Cursing and fuming. Only half of it faked. What did they want with the mother? Dean's gonna be pissed. For a monster, she wasn't all that  _evil_ . She was probably just running on instincts to propagate her species. And she didn't actually kill anyone. She seemed to care for each of her offspring and it sounded like she was devastated when Dean disappeared. 

   “But.” Azazel spoke up, smirking. “We did find out a little nugget of information you might be interested in.”

   “Anything, what?” Sam turned around to face him.

   “We believe that there is another one of them out there.”

   “Another what? Did they figure out what the first one was? How do they know that there's another?”

    “They're calling it a, get this, a  _dragon!_ And the one that they caught was a female. There was evidence of a nest about a mile away from where she went down. One egg in it. Hatched.”

   Sam's heart dropped but his poker face stayed strong. “So there's an adult male out there too? And they were breeding?”

   “No evidence of an adult male, but from what we've learned is that the hatchling is a male. Can you imagine? A baby dragon out there?”

   “Yeah, no. That's just too weird for words.” Sam scrubbed the back of his neck with a hand.

   “Just thought you'd like to know.” Nick added. “If you can't kill the mother. You can try and hunt down the baby and kill it instead. Nothing good can come from it being out there alone. The mother was probably the only thing keeping it in check. Some report said, that the hatchling never strayed from the area, until one day it left. We were thinking that a hunter got it. There were baby tracks next to a man's boot prints going straight from the nest to the road and then disappeared after that. The mother screeched and screamed. Even the town heard her calls for her baby. They were told it was a freak thunderstorm in the valley. The military found her within the hour. She barely even put up much of a fight according to what we read. Lots and lots of air to ground strikes. The sky light up with the blasts.”

   “It's a fitting end to the Bitch. She tore your brother apart and Uncle Sam tore her apart.” Mr. Azazel stated.

   “We'll give you updates on what we find about the baby beast.” Nick offered.

   Sam tried very hard to absorb the information in a way that they'd expect him to. It was so difficult though, to separate his feelings for the mother, his brother, what she did to him and what Dean is now and how he'll react when he finds out that his mother is missing, presumed killed. It was too much.

   Bobby took off his hat for a second to push his hair back from his forehead. “Not that I don't appreciate it an all, but hunters usually don’t share hunts. Why are you boys giving us this information?”

   Nick shrugged. “Well, because, the more eyes out for this thing the better. It took over 50 soldiers to take down just the mother. How many hunters could die taking out a rouge dragon? There aren't that many of us that can spend all their time devoted to killing one monster. This one is more dangerous then a werewolf, or demon or anything else we've encountered. This baby will probably grow up fast. Killing and eating everything in its way. One that doesn’t know how to hide from the public eye. Never trained to keep a low profile. It's basically a wild rabid dog.”

   The girl, Lilith spoke up for the first time, “I’d love to see it! Oh just think of it Daddy, a cute little baby dragon!” she squealed in joy. Nick rubbed her shoulder and grinned.

   “Honey, I don't think you'd like this fairytale critter around. It is probably an ugly son of a bitch.”

   “No doubt.” Azazel chimed in. “After Sammy boy kills it, I just want a small piece. Something rare as that in my collection? Ah, perfection in its vicious majesty. That is my price for this information. Give me, oh I don't know, a hand. From the wrist down. Claws an all. I think that's fair? If we find the beast, we will let you know where we are and if you're not there within the day, we get to kill it and you get nothing. But. We will wait for you, out of courtesy and hunter's respect. It killed your brother. A fine hunter with a good reputation. You have one as well. Impressive hunters. You deserve your revenge, and the hunters community owes it to you to have first shot.” he dipped his head and gave a genuine smile.

   Sam bowed his head a little as well. A sign of respect. He just had to put aside the fact that they were talking about maiming and murdering his brother. Sam forced a grin and said, “Thank you. I'll be ready for that call.”

    Bobby and the others exchanged a few words and they left soon after. Driving back down the long lane and finally disappearing down the road. There was a heaviness in the air. A foreboding feeling that the soft breeze couldn’t take away. “I think they're really gone. I'll go check the perimeter and you go check on him.” Bobby mumbled, barely audible. Sam nodded and made his way over to the panic rooms skylight again. Uncovering it with a hand close to his gun in his belt. His ribs decided to remind Sam that they absolutely  _suck_ and he grunted in exertion as he pulled the debris off of the window. Wiping off the dust and peering inside. No dragon. Fuck.

   Sam bolted around to the front door and ran inside. His long legs ate up the distance to the basement and he threw open the panic room door. Still no Dean. His brother wasn't hiding under the bed or in the storage locker inside, nor was he anywhere in the basement. “Dean?”

   A loud thump was heard upstairs and he took two stairs at a time, heading back up and found Dean in the downstairs study, hiding behind Bobby's desk and stacks of books on dragon lore, witches and shapeshifters. A few very faint chirps were heard as Dean lifted his head, scanning left and right as if monsters would pop out of the shadows. Sam crossed the distance, saying, “It's ok, they're gone. You're safe.”

   Dean shook his head and nuzzled Sam's chest and ribs. Checking him over for injuries. He sniffed around, and found no trace of blood and only a heightened scent of worry around him. That's to be expected. He grumbled at the windows leading to the backyard and Sam sighed heavily. How much did Dean hear? Understand?”

   “It's ok. Everything’s fine.”

   Dean shook his head again, a pained expression on his face.

   “What did you hear?”

   Dean looked from Sam to the backyard. Then huffed. Sam realized it wasn’t a yes or no question but if he asked any of those it would let on what was said outside. He'd have to explain it all to Dean. He didn't want to.

   “Nevermind. They just were telling us that they know there was a nest and a baby born. That means we're gonna have to be extra careful to keep you hidden, alright?”

   Dean made some indistinct sounds, Sam wasn't even sure if they were words in his own tongue. He was getting better at deciphering them, even though Dean often switched from chirping, growling, coo's like pigeons, and sounds that a cat makes when it's sufficiently pissed off. Apparently, the dragon language isn't as straight forward as one series of sounds = one word like in nearly every single human language. You could say one word a thousand different ways but it was still the same original word. Sam could barely wrap his head around how Dean could be talking about food to eat one day in chirps and the next in growls. Shouldn't it be the same series of chirps or growls despite how he feels about it?

   Sam sighed heavily. “Did you want me to keep teaching you the alphabet?”

    Dean shook his head and exhaled deeply. He walked towards the front door and turned the knob with his mouth before straining his body to get out of the narrow opening. His wings were practically laying on his back, semi raised and he sucked in his stomach as he muscled his way out the door. It had to hurt him to be squeezed like that. This was probably the last time Dean would be inside the house, besides the panic room. Unless, they find a way to fix him. Find a cure, or if nothing else, a spell to turn him human. Sam had no idea if such a thing existed, but if some powerful witches could turn people to animals why not the other way around? Granted those stories were just that, stories, but there had to be some truth behind them? An origin? How were those other dragons able to look human most of the time? Is it in their genetics or something else?

   Dean interrupted his thoughts as he chirped for his brother to help him out with the grill. Sam forgot all about the slow cooking meat! Sam lifted the lid, and was pleased to note it was only slightly burned. Not that Dean cares about that. If Dean had his way it would probably still be on fire as he ate it.

   “Don't worry, we'll figure this out. Then you can get back to eating burgers and hunting monsters. And I’ll go back to being the tall handsome one.” Sam smirked up at Dean.

   Dean dipped his head lower and licked a long very wet stripe on Sam's shirt. Just for the disgusted and irritated look he blessed Dean with.

    Ah, bitchface number 42, Dean's  _favorite_ .

 

 

 


	5. This is gonna sting. Don't kill me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attack blindsides the boys at Bobby's house and they have to run for it.

Chapter Five:

“This is gonna sting. Don't kill me.”

 

 

 

   “Yeah, Dean, I don’t care, it's been 3 weeks since you've brushed your damn teeth. Last time you did, you were a different _species_! They _reek_! Now get your head down here.”

   Dean lifted it 8 feet higher and shook it like a petulant child.

   “Your teeth are gonna rot out of your skull if you don't brush them!”

   “Sam, son, he breaths fire. I'm pretty sure bacteria don't stand a chance against that furnace face.”

   Dean gestured at Bobby. Damn right.

   “So why does his breath stink?” Sam countered.

    “Have him gargle a bottle of mouth wash or something, but don't use a soft bristle hairbrush as a toothbrush. That's just not sanitary.”

    “It's brand new! It's not like I just took mine out of the bag and threw some toothpaste on it.” Sam defended, pushing the paste down a little further into the bristles with careful fingertips. “Dean! I see you sneaking off. Get your stanky ass back here!”

    Dean stuck out his tongue and ran faster. Easily leaping up onto a tall stack of creaking cars to get out of reach. He sat down, brought his front half up and hands curved, and perched like a 20 foot tall gargoyle. Chuckling to himself as he posed, snarling silently at the sky. 

    Sam finally caught up and snapped a quick picture for Dean. He's gonna wanna see that later. 

    “Ok, I was gonna watch the next Star wars with you after you brushed your teeth but if you don't want to...” Sam said, trailing away. He heard Dean whimper behind him. “'Cause you know how nauseous your bad breath makes me and I don't want to have to hold back barfing while sitting next to you.”

    Dean grumbled at him and jumped down from the stack of cars, making the ground actually shudder under Sam's feet. He had grown considerably those last few days, now about half the height of the mother. 10 feet tall at the shoulder, another 7 or 8 if he stretched his neck upwards. His back was now nearly level with the top of the garage door so he had to duck to get in and out. The ground would forever shake when he walked, unless he was trying to be quiet. He was eerily good at sneaking around. Something that big should make a sound but Dean's had plenty of practice, avoiding Sam's insistence on keeping his body perfectly clean at all times. A roll in the pond out back wasn't good enough. Sam had washed Dean like a car at least 3 times now. Maybe out of boredom? Dean would complain more but he did shed his old skin like a snake often. His body growing so fast all of his scales needed to be replaced several times and washing was a lot faster then waiting for the old scales to dry up and fall off in patches. Then they'd have to come up with a reasonable identity to customers what they were if they came across them. 

    Dean pounced forward, Sam easily regained his balance as Dean nudged his spine with his forehead. Slightly curved horns popping out on either side of Sam under his armpits. 

    Sam leaned back, and Dean tilted his nose up a little, easily lifting Sam's back up off the ground with just his head. Sam wiggled and cried out as Dean lowered his head just a little so he could get the leverage to lift his squirming brother completely off the ground. Sam's voice climbed several octaves. “Dean! Put me down!” His legs flailing in open air. Sam's arms tightened around the two 7 inch long horns and his hands reached underneath himself to grab at anything he could touch, Dean's side fans were clutched painfully but Dean refused to let show how sensitive they were to being grabbed. A mighty warrior like himself doesn't have any sensitive bits. At least not out in the open. At least modesty and clothing wasn't a factor in this form since his junk is kept safely inside a sheath until he needs to 'go'. Dean thanked god that he didn't have to worry about intimidating Sam in  _that_ department as well. Probably give the poor kid a heart attack. No,  Dean was a gentledragon, above that schoolboy tomfoolery, but not above fucking around with Sam in other ways.

    Dean felt Sam squirming on top of his head and long muzzle, flaring his nose ridges so his small brother's derriere was supported better. He bounced his head once, twice, 'cause why not?, and let Sam slide down his massive head till his feet touched down again. Sam stumbled a little after the dismount, trying to regain some sense of dignity and intended to turn to glare at his brother. Dean's toothy grin inches from his face actually made him shudder for a second. He felt like those kids in Jurassic park with the T-Rex staring at them through the jeep window. His determination faltered and Dean's grin got wider. 

    Dean licked Sam's shirt and ducked back out of reach for the expected punch to his nose. When Sam didn't retaliate he just looked down and cocked his head. Sam hadn't moved a muscle. The fear scent wafted up and Dean frowned at that. Well shit. He just wanted to play with his brother and ended up scaring him. _Again_ . Good going idiot. Seems like anything he does scares Sam. Play time obviously over, Dean sighed heavily and turned to go back to his nest. 

    Sam stood there, trembling slightly, staring into space, brain replaying the rows of long sharp teeth. The gaping maw. Dean's tongue tasting him. Getting ready to make a quick snack out of his little body. Just a matter of time before Sam forgets to feed Dean and his instincts take over.  _Damn_ . How much food does Dean need now?! They've already maxed out several credit cards for the 15 cows he's consumed in just the last  _week!_ Sam was still seeing those teeth, ripping, slashing, biting. Most of the cows were delivered already prepared but one unfortunate delivery yesterday had a typo and 3 live cows were delivered instead. The delivery guy argued with Bobby for a second before Bobby heard a growl that thankfully the delivery guy didn't and accepted the three cows immediately. He signed the papers and the truck drove away. Dean had sauntered out, tail wagging, and nodding appreciatively to Bobby and then Sam who had just come out of the house. He snapped his teeth at the three bovine, scaring the poor cows before diving in and slashing all three of their throats with a few well placed claws. They were like rats to a cat. He circled around them easily and kept them corralled as they stumbled and fell. He circled a few more times, tripping up one cow that managed to stay standing and tried to bolt. It fell heavily onto its side, moaning and crying pitifully, so Dean made quick work of snapping its neck. He then snapped the other two just as fast in his powerful jaws. The sounds. Oh god the  _sounds_ of him setting fire to the pile and then  _eating_ them.

    Sam had turned away, running behind the nearest car pile and threw up everything he ate that day and the one previous. All the while crunching and wet slurping sounds filled the air behind him.

    Dean was too preoccupied to notice. Moaning in pleasure at the chance to kill his own food again. His instincts were truly driving him mad. He needed to hunt. That was too easy, but, at the time, he was too hungry to care. 

    Today, he knew better. Sam didn't like to be reminded of teeth and eating around Dean anymore. Even though the very first day he saw Dean he took him out to  _specifically_ kill and eat a cow. For some reason now, because it was easier maybe? Sam had a problem with it. So what if its three cows now and it was less then a minute to kill all of them. At least he did it painlessly! That first kill in the field dragged on and on because it was the same size as him and he'd only killed injured ones before. Mother brought over a cow with a broken leg, to teach him how to kill the animal and what to do to prepare it so it could be eaten. He missed her. So  _badly_ . He sensed that Sam somehow knew what happened to her but he wont tell him. Their communication became easier since Sam taught him a little hand speak. 

    The alphabet was fairly easy, so long as his thick clawed fingers chose to work properly. If he had trouble he'd just write it out in the air or sand. That took longer and more space. Sam was learning the hand speak too. Teaching it gave them both something to do to keep their minds off of crap. Thankfully Dean was able to learn pretty quickly and was spelling out about 40 hand speak words so far, but growing. Small ones, and they were actually having conversations now instead of pantomiming and 20 questions. Since the dragon needed at least one foreleg to stand with, he could only manage spelling out the words with the other hand. Short words were best, and you could say a lot with the right ones. 

    Sam eventually made his way to Dean's garage, straw covered the floor all over, and Dean had brought in tree limbs, old blankets and rags to make a nest in the corner. Sam peeked inside to find the breathing pile of scales hunched up in the far corner, pretending to be a bag of rags. Sam knocked on the inside of the garage door, “Hey there Godzilla.”

    Dean twitched a little and brought his wings in tighter. 

    Sam took a few steps in, finding a bit more confidence the closer he got. “So, I was thinkin'. We could watch Star wars after your lunch.”  


   Dean lifted his head from his wing, looking intently at Sam. Sam shifted from one foot to the other, not liking the scrutiny. Dean huffed sadly, shook his head and dipped it down again. 

   “Dean, I'm sorry ok? I'm not scared of you, you just... startled me.”

   Dean grumbled at that, Sam was pretty sure that wasn't words. He walked closer and lifted up a wing, finding Dean's head underneath with his eyes closed tight. Mouth pursed shut. 

    “Don't shut me out.” Sam berated gently. He then rested his hand to Dean's nose, rubbing the bridge of it. Dean opened up one eye and stared at Sam above him. He jerked away from Sam's hand. Bringing his wing down again as a barrier. “Dean.” he pleaded. “Dean, I'm  _sorry_ !”

    Dean shifted and Sam was pushed back on accident, he was too close to the huge mass of body. He was glad he didn't fall over, making Dean feel even worse. “Dean. Talk to me. I know you can. You're getting so good at it!”

    Dean shifted again, making sure Sam was far enough away for him to lift up a hand, elbows supporting his chest. He signed, 'go far'.

    “No.”

    Dean signed it again, eyebrows lowered.

    “No, Dean. I'm not going anywhere. You haven't eaten yet so I know you're hungry, and after that I will brush those teeth of yours and then we can watch some movies.”

    'me scare u'.

    “No you don't. It was your breath. It reeks man!”

    Dean didn't look convinced. 'me scare u many time'.

    “Well that's just bullshit.” Sam crossed his arms. 

    Dean reared up quickly and a flame 12 feet wide shot out suddenly over Sam's head. Dean's vicious roar thundered at him and stomped both feet on the ground. Claws digging into the ground, one on each side of the biped. Trapping him under Dean's terrifying mouth as it open mouthed growled at him like a rabid junkyard dog. 

_That_ did get a reaction. Even though Sam was half prepared for a show like that, because he knows his brother, he wasn't expecting to feel so small standing there with room to spare under Dean's mass. His legs gave out and he fell to his ass on the straw. Sam scooted back a few feet, kicking instinctively away from underneath Dean's thundering, heaving chest. His massive wings were crooked and wrapped around in the air, forming a dome over Sam to make him feel even smaller. 

    After Sam got his breath back he shouted, “You asshole!” Holding his side. His ribs were healed but bruised. He panted a few times and glared up at Dean, still snarling. Sam got to his feet and took some steps back. Dean stopped growling abruptly and nodded. Satisfied that he was right. Sam was scared. “That doesn't prove anything, Dean!”

    'go far' Dean signed one handed, unsoundly, and turned around. Folding up his wings again, he flopped back into his nest, facing away from his distraught brother. 

    “So what, you're gonna sulk now? Dean I don't care what you look like! I know you'd never actually hurt me.”

    Dean turned his head to him, eyes narrowed. 'like you hurt eggs?'

    Sam's breath caught in his throat. How could he...? “That was uncalled for.” his crushing guilt nearly palpable in the air. “You really went there, fucking  _jerk_ .” Sam swiped his eyes with more force then necessary. “You know I didn't know what they really were.”

    Dean rolled his eyes at that. Apparently Sam wasn't gonna leave easy. Damned emo brat. He wanted to talk it out. Dean  _really_ didn't want to. He looked behind Sam to the garage's open door. Sam turned too, not knowing what was out there that caught his brother's eye. Dean got up.  


   “No! No no no we are going to fuckin' talk about this, Dean!” Sam back stepped towards the door shaking a finger at the irritated dragon approaching him. 

    Dean stopped for a moment to sign, 'u talk I hunt'.

    “What?! No! You can't!” panic clear in his voice. Sam ran towards the garage door and slammed his hand on the button to close it. It rattled on its chains and tracks as it slowly closed. 

    Dean raised an eyebrow. 'u stop me?' he signed one handed again. 'try' he then strode quickly towards Sam, and with one claw, hit the button again. Blocking Sam from hitting it with his wide open clawed hand, nearly three feet long. He then grabbed Sam's torso and firmly moved him aside. Holding him in place as the door opened again.

    “Dean! You  _jerk_ ! Put me down!” Sam squirmed in Dean's grasp. “You're  _hurting_ me!”

    Dean immediately let go, startled, eyebrows pinched, looking down to Sam, gasping for air and hunching over. Dean nosed at Sam's chest, inhaling deeply. He let out a surprised screech. He stormed out of the garage and turned around, wings flared and teeth bared, 'liar' his snarl clearly making his feelings known. Everybody lies to him, and he  _hates_ it.

    Sam stood up again, holding his side. “I'm not lying, you  _are_ hurting me, just not physically, you're hurting  _me._ ” he thumped his chest over his heart with his other hand, “In here.”

    Dean huffed at that and started walking. He heard Sam chase after him and sighed deeply. Dean turned around, noticing Bobby standing in front of the porch, gun in hand. He growled softly as he signed, 'bullet or sleep?' towards Bobby. 

    Sam translated, “Dean is asking if that has bullets or the herb tranquilizers.”

    “Depends on if he plans on coming back.” Bobby called over. 

    Dean squinted at him then looked down to Sam. 'what mean?'

    Sam replied, “If you plan on leaving for good, Bobby and I have to make you fall asleep using the sleep herbs. We don't want to have to do that. But  _you can't just leave us_ . There are so many people out there that want to kill you. That don't know that you are my brother. That you are basically a human in a dragon's body. If we have to tranquilize you to keep you safe... we're gonna do it. Because all they'll see is a monster.” 

    Dean nodded. 'am one'.

    “You're  _not_ . We are so close to a cure. And we get it, you need to hunt. If you plan on coming back, then we will go with you to hunt. The real bullets aren't for  _you_ . They're for whoever tries to take you away from us.”

    “Either way, you're stuck with us, Dean.” Bobby stated, walking over. He handed a second rifle to Sam.

    'what is?' he asked again, pointing to the rifles. 

    “You tell us.” Bobby declared. 

    Dean took a long sniff of the rifles and smirked. No tingle in his nose. Real bullets. 'we hunt' he signed happily. He flapped a few times, lifting off the ground for only a few feet as he leaped towards the entrance. His wings brushed by the stacks of cars on either side and he brought them in quick as he burst through the entryway to the salvage yard. He skittered on the road, claws scraping the blacktop as he turned left towards the woods. Sam and Bobby sprinting to keep up. 

    Sam whispered to Bobby once Dean was out of earshot. “You got the herb bullets in your handgun, right?”

    “You bet yer ass I do, it's in a plastic baggie. Wont make the same mistake twice.” Bobby nodded and they finally caught up to Dean.

    He turned around and pranced like an excited dog, waiting for the others. 

    “Dean you idjit! Get under cover! Anyone can see you now!” Bobby called over, pointing to the overgrown side of the road. 

    Dean stopped and stood proud in the street. Wings splayed out. He called out and then remembered they don't understand him. He just got so excited! First time he left the salvage yard in weeks. Let the humans see him. Nothing can stop him! He is strong, powerful, in his  _prime_ . He sat on his haunches, wings splayed for balance and he beat his chest with his forepaws like King Kong. Giving a manly roar that sounded suspiciously like Tarzan.

    “You are an idiot!” Sam laughed joyfully, couldn't help it. Damn he wished he had a video of that. 

    'u jane' Dean signed, thrilled that he remembered how to spell the girl's name for the joke. 'hair long'.

    Sam had to laugh for a few minutes. Bobby chuckling behind him too. It was awesome seeing him getting more of his past life's memories back. Just needed inspiration maybe. Sam jogged over and waved his hand for Dean to knock off the chest beating and to get to the trees that lined the road. Dean snorted a short flame at him and followed Sam to the tree line, also chuckling in his own way. Bobby had their 6, making sure no cars were on the road to see that. 

    Once inside the trees Dean galloped ahead and turned to gallop back, urging Sam and Bobby to go faster. Circling around them and nipping at the grass close to their feet. 

    “Are you gonna hunt or do you wanna play fetch?” Bobby chided. He couldn't help but laugh too when Dean produced a  _huge_ log and dropped it at Bobby's feet. Sticking his rear in the air, wings on the ground and 15 feet of tail whipping around in the air behind him. “Something smaller, freckled Fido.”

    Dean huffed a laugh and brought back a two foot long stick and gave it to Sam, playing tug of war with it and letting Sam win. He then pulled it from Sam's grip and set fire to it while it was still in his mouth and offered the still smoking remains back. 

    “Sore loser.” Sam chuckled. “So what's on the menu today? Squirrel? Gopher? Or how about... bear.”

    Dean lifted a hand and enthusiastically signed, 'bear' 

    “Good choice. It just so happens that about 5 miles from here there was a sighting some weeks back. It would do the town a lot of good if we took down the rogue bear. It's been dodging the wildlife officials for months. Making its way west of here. Did you want to try for it?”

    Dean nodded so fast that Sam wondered if he'd get a headache. 

    “Welp, sniff it out. We got your 6.”

    Dean cocked his head, 'what six?'

    “It means we got your back. 6 o'clock? If you were standing on a clock, in front of you would be 12 o'clock and behind you would be 6 o'clock. To your left is 9 and right is 3. So when we say, bear 5 o'clock, you'll know we spotted it behind and to your right. It really comes in handy when you're hunting with more then one person. We will go by your position for the calls.” Sam explained, showing Dean his wristwatch and pointing out the directions. 

    Dean looked at the watch closely, something pulled on him. 'me you clock?'

    “Yeah, you uh, you gave me this watch for my birthday.”

    Dean made a sound like “oh”. To which Sam just enjoyed the hell out of hearing. 'you like clock?'

    “Yeah, it saved my life a few times already. Especially the compass.” Sam pointed it out and they spent another 20 minutes explaining north pole's magnetic fields and the passages of time before Dean's brow furrowed so deeply Bobby was surprised to not see steam coming out his ears. 

    “It's getting a little late, should we head back? Come back tomorrow?”

    Dean harrumphed. 'no go'.

    “Did you pick up a scent at all?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head sadly. “It's ok, no one ever bags a bear their first time out.”

    “I've never gotten one. Kinda looking forward to having a nice rug, or have a taxidermist make a form for it.”

    Dean signed, 'me eat bear'. Like that was the most obvious thing ever.

    “We can do both, just don't rip the pelt apart when you kill it.”

    Dean ducked down and gave Bobby a withering look, then showed his teeth for a split second. 'u try it'.

    “I got faith in your skills, Boy. Just snap its neck quick so it doesn't suffer. Then bring it back home. I can teach you boys how to skin it and then you can fire and eat the rest. Maybe I'll make you a nice bearskin hat.” Bobby chuckled.

    Dean seemed to think it over. He nodded and then walked ahead of them, nose to the ground. He brought a wing up ahead of him and swept the trail upwards with his wing, bringing the scents up to his nose, funneling the smells all around the area. Sam remembered a toddler version of his brother doing this very same move when they found him at the nest site.

   Dean would stop occasionally with a funny look in his eyes, squinting and sniffing confirmation. 'deer' he informed, then followed it for a moment before giving up on the trail.

    “It's getting very late now, did you want to grab the deer and go home? We can go after the bear tomorrow.”

    Dean considered this and bobbed his head. He effortlessly slunk down the path the deer had taken. Too quick for Sam or Bobby to catch up. Sam was grateful for that as not 10 minutes later of trailing after him he heard an almighty scream from a young buck followed instantly by a sharp snap. At least it didn't suffer. Sam's stomach did flip flops as Dean came back to them down the trail, carrying the buck with ease in his mouth. He had to keep it centered more over his front legs for balance as he walked, but still, that wasn't a small feat. Blood dripped from the bite marks from where Dean snapped its neck and where his teeth were carrying it now. Dean took it past the hunters and kept going home. Bobby behind, Sam had to jog ahead to make sure there were no car's coming or going before Dean crossed the threshold of the salvage yard again. He wanted to take his dinner out back and burn it in his usual spot, over the former funeral pyre. Easier to hide the evidence of numerous BBQ fires. 

    Bobby stopped Dean from burning it. He watched the older man go inside a small shed with a large sink out front and come back out with a set of tools in a box. Bobby showed Sam and Dean how to prepare the deer. Draining the blood, gutting it, skinning it, and removing the skull. Bobby mentioned the buck had a nice 8 point rack on it and should be mounted proudly on a plaque for him. Dean was beaming at the praise. All of the deer preparations were practice for when Dean gets his prize bear. Both brothers absorbed the information with rapt attention. Finally, Dean tugged the meat off of the hook then took it back to his burn pit and roasted it up. He carved out a section of hind quarter again with a few claws, the best part of the animal in his opinion, and laid it on a piece of sheet metal he found and sanitized with fire. When he saw Sam and Bobby next, he reheated it easily and brought it over to them as they stood next to the Impala. He laid it at their feet and grinned down at them. Signing, 'we hunt'.

    “Thanks Dean, and this isn't our hunt, it's yours. But I will enjoy this. Thank you so much.” Sam said, rubbing Dean's shoulder over his head. Dean ducked down for a second in acknowledgment and backed up a little so he could lay down. Sam hunkered down as well, sitting on Dean's right forearm. If Dean were any bigger, Sam's feet would be dangling. Bobby shook his head, he didn't care for sitting on people. No matter what they looked like. Sam used a pocket knife to break up the chunk into manageable bite sizes and savored the smoked venison. Bobby ate some too and had to admit that Dean was a master at cooking it to perfection now. Nice and juicy center and thin crispy outer layer keeping in the tender meat's natural juices. They could detect the barest trace of the flammable mist lingering on the meat, but ignored it. Part of them resolutely NOT thinking about the fact that Dean cooked it with essentially flammable dragon spit. 

    Dean was practically radiant as Sam and Bobby enjoyed it. After weeks of being completely dependent on them for food, shelter, and entertainment, at least he could give them supper. He wanted to provide daily for them to show he wasn’t useless here, but they kept him too close. There was nothing he could hunt for in the scrapyard that they'd want to eat. His hind quarters shifted to rest out to the side, trying not to jostle Sam lounging on his arm, wings twitching till they found a comfortable resting spot and relaxed. His tail curled around and tapped at the back of Bobby's leg, messing with him. He sighed contentedly and dipped his head down to rest it on his other forearm, looking at Sam with his half closed right eye. The green and gold flecks practically sparkling in the dim sunset. 

    Dean jolted when he heard something coming. His head shot up and looked intently all around. Scanning, searching. Sam felt the muscles in the arm underneath him twitch and flex, ready to spring into action. He got up quickly and the food was lost to the ground. Dean stood tall, over top of Sam who's head bumped into Dean's chest overhead. He felt the low warning growl and tensed up, looking to where Dean's head was pointed. It was too late at night for this to be a customer, and hunters usually announced their visits so Bobby didn't fill them with buckshot. The next nearest neighbor never drives out that way to get home. Dean looked down to the bipeds and used his hand to push them against the Impala. That was odd, Dean usually would duck for cover and wait until they took care of benign intruders.

    Dean hastily signed, 'in' and scrabbled at the door handle, trying to open it with too huge claws. The screech of the nails on the paint sent shivers of panic down their spines. His fretful whimpers and urgent sounds and actions were alarming. Dean was  _scared_ !

    “Shit! Keys are inside. I'll be right back.” Sam sprinted towards the house, looking for the guns as well. Whatever it was, not even Dean thought he was a match for it on their own home turf. Outside, a massive rumbling sound reverberated around the whole house, getting louder, closer. A helicopter? Plane? Sounded like a train's steam engine.

    Bobby went to his own car and got out his all purpose kit and ancient laptop, bringing it back to the Impala as Dean was now standing guard at the properties entrance, wings out, teeth bared and hunched like he was going to fuckin' kill anything that even looked at Singer Salvage. Bobby and Sam got to the Impala at the same time, throwing supplies into the back and getting in. All the while a deeper rumbling then Dean's shook the very ground. An air  _and_ land attack. Dean glanced over his shoulder, checking on the humans as the thudding from over head started to hurt his ears. 

    They're coming.

    Sam peeled out and spun the wheel of the Impala, kicking up rocks everywhere. He aimed it towards the entrance as Bobby was checking guns, loading up  _everything_ he could reach. Sam honked once to let Dean know they're coming up fast behind him so he leaped forward and took a sharp turn to the left, running full tilt as the Impala slowly matched speed. Dean was really hoofing it, lowering his head to reduce wind drag as he ran, turning his arrow shaped head to see inside the Impala and make sure the others were alright. He then started to run  _faster_ . Sam sped along, now cruising at 60 mph down the road. Dean leaped a few times and started flapping his wings, getting his body off the ground to go faster, but not too high, as each foot above the treeline he saw, his heart hammered harder. 

    He cursed his fear of heights. Even at 20 feet tall he was scared to fly or leap too high. The maximum height he felt comfortable with was far too low to do any good. A huge black helicopter was quickly approaching behind them. Dean panicked. No way could the others make it. Sam sped on, almost never taking his eyes off of the four legs running and leaping dangerously close to the Impala, the wing beats buffeting the car as if he were driving next to a semi on a windy day. Dean leaped forward a little, wings lifting him up into the air a little, but Sam could tell the exact moment when it was too high as Dean dropped back to the earth, thudding the ground each time. 

    “We got more company.” Bobby announced, getting out a handgun and rolling his window down. Sam looked in the rear view and saw no less then 5 big black armored trucks all speeding towards them. Two had police lights going and soon the sirens started wailing into the night. 

    Dean stumbled a little, not expecting the howl of the sirens to be so sharp sounding. It pained his ears and he tried to block it out but his head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He spun around as the Impala narrowly missed hitting his tail as he lifted it over the car. He skidded to a halt aiming his whole body towards the line of black vehicles and roared. The trucks slowed down a fraction and some bullets flew by his head. One hit next to his eye but left little more then a dent. 

_THAT_ pissed him off. They had been shooting this whole time at his baby brother and dadfriend. He readied a massive amount of his spray and hit the first armored truck with it as the flames shot out a second later. The whole truck was like a flaming torpedo as it swerved left and right too sharply and ended up hitting the one behind, both going into the ditch. The third one swerved as well but regained control and started up again after the other first two left the road. Dean panted, wings splayed, blocking their view of the Impala that kept on going. Dean looked overhead and saw the helicopter hovering low, aiming towards his baby. Dean roared again, leaping up and biting at the underside of the helicopter. It tipped in the air, not grabbed but knocked around by his jaws. He landed heavily, stumbling a little and leaped again, wings flapping hard to get some more lift this time. It soared higher, just missing his clacking teeth.

    Dean couldn't fly from a standstill, he needed some speed for that so he took off running again after the Impala. If he got too far behind they'd be helpless if someone came at them from the other end of the street. He had no idea how many enemies where after them. Just that they were already hopelessly outnumbered. The three remaining black vehicles sped along after him. More gunshots ricocheted off of his hide and he only managed a rolling growl as he ran full out. Leaping again here and there, testing to see if he was fast enough to fly. If anytime was the right time to get over this fear, now is it. All of their lives are on the line. He leaped like a panther and took wing, beating his wings hard, ends brushing the blacktop. He closed his eyes for a second as he focused on just gaining height. 'Don't look down. Don't look at the trees.' he repeated in his head, finally opening his eyes and seeing that he was 100 feet in the air, flying hard and fast. He saw the helicopter leveling out next to him and shooting at him with much larger projectiles. He ducked instinctively but got hit in his side and legs. Faltering drastically as he tried to dive out of the way faster. He had no idea how to fight while flying. Not enough practice doing  _either_ in this body. He can't exactly punch it out of the sky, or jump onto it from above like he did with a few of the prey animals, forcing them to the ground. He'd need to be on top of the helicopter, and those rotating blades kept him from doing anything of the sort. Instead, he looked down and saw the other three black trucks gaining on the Impala. Bright flashes from all of the cars but fewer from his baby towards the attackers. He banked right, away from the chopper and dive bombed the three at once. 

    The front claws splayed wide, bashing in the windshield of the first truck, then curled his claws a little to crunch the dashboard. Glass and sparks flew everywhere, the men's screams inside like a symphony. Before the truck even had a chance to brake, he was pushing down with his hands, using the truck as a platform to leap to the second one right behind it. Ramming it with his hind feet that came forward as if he were leaping, directly onto the windshield again, his front legs swinging ahead and slamming down again, clutching the rear of the truck forming it into a crude ball. Plenty of practice leap frogging onto cars at the salvage yard. Pushing at the front and back with his hands and feet he crushed it underfoot. The satisfying crunch of metal and screams made him grin. When it threatened to roll, he leaped forward to the last truck, misjudging the distance because the driver had hit the brakes, Dean ended up head butting the front grill of the third one. He toppled over it, falling badly on a wing and cried out in pain as the end of his wing was run over by the last truck as it careened out of control. Rolling onto its side towards the ditch with Dean on top. 

    He stumbled and roared along with it. Tangled in the top rack of the truck and a rear door that had opened in the collision. His legs bent awkwardly and right wing flopping uselessly at his side. Intense, white hot pain rocketed through his wing and he screamed through it all. Just to relieve some of the pent up frustration and agony. He found his feet, untangling them from the truck and shoving it aside as best he could like a 'little tykes' truck. The men inside moaned in pain as well but Dean ignored them all. He got to his feet shakily, and jerked his head up, scanning the road around him, satisfied that the every one of the trucks were now useless for the chase. Even so, he saw the Impala's brake lights bright in the gloom. Shit. They're stopping!

    “NOOO!” He roared at the Impala. Why did they stop? He can handle these pathetic bipeds. The trucks are destroyed. The men in the trucks climbed out and helped the others get out as well before the trucks could explode on their own from leaking gasoline. Dean glared hatefully at them and let loose an immense fireball at the emptied overturned truck. Turning around while the flame shot out everywhere his head aimed so he was surrounded in all consuming fire. Most of the men wisely ran away, headed in all directions. 

    A very few armed men and women got to their feet, waited and when he was nearly out of flame they started shooting at him again. He hissed at them, a small part of himself admired their bravery, and started to run towards the Impala again. His right wing dragging painfully at his side. He tried to fold it up and managed to use his left wing thumb to hook onto it to keep it at least laying on his back. As he ran, Dean assessed the damage and found that it was just his index wing finger that was broken. He could probably still fly. Despite it being just the one clean break in bone, pain wracked his whole body, had he biped like skin, it would be bruised beyond belief. 'Never mind that now, put the pain away. Think about it later.' he pushed that thought forefront in his mind. The fear for his family was first and foremost his concern. The headlights of the Impala shone out like a spotlight, directly at him, and the expression on his face must have been seen by the two because the Impala paused in going to his rescue. He leaped faster. Muscles burning all over. An acidic taste in the back of his throat gurgled up. He spat out more of the liquid fire to rid himself of its distraction. 

    Sam and Bobby somehow spun the car around yet again to face forward as Dean seemed to not need any help anymore. Sam waited until Dean was level with the car again, galloping steadily instead of the full tilt running and leaping. Sam's window was down and he called over to Dean's slowly drooping head. 

    “Dean! You alright?”

    Dean shook his head. As much as he wanted to lie to reassure his brother, they needed to know that if they want to survive, they should just let him go. He could hold off the enemy while they escaped. He waved his bloodied wing finger at them and they gasped when they saw the break. Blood spattered the windows on Sam's side. Dean's eyes were loosing focus a little and his breaths were becoming shallow. 

    “Dean! Just stop! There's a farm up ahead we can hole up in.” 

    Dean shook his head side to side, getting dizzy from the action. He then tilted his nose up and looked to Sam then the sky. Back and forth, back and forth. Sam leaned forward in his seat and saw that the helicopter was just following along at a leisurely pace, above them all.

    Bobby stuck his head out of the window to see what the big deal was. “Son's of bitches are just waiting for him to drop! They tagged him and now they're running him until he dies of exhaustion. African hunters do that. They injure an animal and simply chase after it, driving it endlessly until it drops.” Bobby said disbelievingly. “Smart move on their part, but now we are  _so screwed._ ” 

    “If Dean can't get in for a close one-on-one fight, he can't win. Oh  _shit_ .”

    Dean was panting hard now, breaths forced, lungs heaving and his scales glistening with either sweat or blood or both. Sam had to slow the Impala to keep pace with him. He wished that the Impala could take Dean's weight on top, then he'd just drive them all to safety but now, Dean could cover the whole Impala so that nothing could be seen under his mass. When did he get so  _big_ ? 

    Dean licked his thin lips and swallowed down some more acidic bile. His whole body screamed at him to Just. Stop. Running. Every time he slowed a little, he checked on the chopper. Still there. Hovering over him like a vulture waiting for the prey to just die already. Dean looked over to Sam again, he couldn't tell Sam anything while using his sore hands for running. He formed a word with his mouth, and though it felt totally wrong on his tongue, he hoped that Sam understood this growl for what it was. “ggghoooo.”

    Sam's jaw dropped, did Dean just speak English? “You want us to go?”

    Dean's eyes blinked slowly and he grinned a little. He nodded and turned his nose to the horizon. “gghooo.”

    “No! Not leaving you, Jerk!” Sam clutched the steering wheel harder. “Just stop so we can get out and start shooting at those bastards! I can't do that and drive at the same time! The rest of the ammo is in the trunk.”

    Dean shook his head. Mouth hanging open. Dean slowed down out of sheer exhaustion rather then wanting to, and relief flooded Sam's face. He slowed down too, practically eating the dashboard. Bobby put a newly loaded firearm in Sam's jacket pocket and a rifle's grip in his free waiting hand, other still on the wheel and synced up perfectly with Dean's progress. Dean slowed all the way down. Stopping in the middle of the street, chest heaving, hind legs buckling under him and his forelegs locked in place to keep him somewhat upright. Dean waited for a hot minute, desperately catching his breath. The chopper hovered still overhead. Tense. Waiting.

    Sam leaped out of the car, rifle up to his shoulder and trained overhead. He started shooting for the glass viewing area under the pilots. The glass cracked a little and the chopper started to move again. Just enough to throw off Sam's aim. 

    “ _I am gonna rip their hearts out_ .” Sam uttered hatefully, firing off round after round into the metal beast. Dean was too busy panting and trying not to have a heart attack. His wings drooped to his sides. All he wanted to do was collapse and fall asleep for a million years. Bobby grabbed something from the trunk while Sam kept firing and ran over to Dean. 

    “Open up!” he ordered and Dean looked blearily at him. He laid down completely onto the road and opened his mouth. Bobby dumped out a gallon of holy water into the bowl the jaw, gums and teeth made. Dean wanted to purr at the cool sensation. His tongue lazily moved the small amount of water back and forth, making sure not to loose a single drop. Actual steam rose from his mouth. The acidic burn died down and he gulped it all down in one go, looking around himself for more water to suddenly appear. Bobby ran back to the trunk, looking for more. Two more flasks later and Dean's focus cleared a fraction. Bobby pulled out some alcohol from the med kit and went to Dean's broken wing finger. “This is gonna sting. Don't kill me.”

    Dean nodded once, chin bumping the ground, and he angled the wing finger towards Bobby as invitation. Bobby dumped the bottle out all over the broken scales and blood and Dean bit his foreleg to keep from jerking away or hitting his dadfriend. His wing twitched and shivered, the bloody alcohol sprayed around as Bobby kept on pouring. He did a quick scan of the rest of Dean and noticed that Sam had gone back to the trunk for something. 

    “Can't believe I forgot about this!” he shouted happily and actually hefted up a small grenade launcher. “EBAY!” he shouted triumphantly as it fired up at the helicopter. Landing square on the underside, it tore a hole through the massive helicopter and it skittered around in the air. Listing heavily to the side as it spun around and around in tighter circles as it disappeared behind the tree line a mile away. They didn't see or hear an explosion and were only somewhat grateful they didn't kill anybody. Probably.

    A few tense minutes passed with the only sound being Dean's heavy breaths and trembling claws on the blacktop. 

    “We gotta get him inside somewhere. He might be going into shock. We gotta regroup. There's farmhouses up ahead I think.” Bobby called over as Sam lowered the empty launcher. He hefted it back into the trunk, slamming it shut and checking around for evidence that they were there. His hunter's training kicking in; blood on the road. Tire marks. Couldn't be helped. Maybe civilians will think it was just roadkill? Make it look like roadkill. Sam ran to the side of the road, grabbed some dirt and scrub grass and heaped it over the blood, forming a rough body shape with the mud and blood. In the trunk, Dean had a bag made out of rabbit fur that held native American charms in it. A gift from a grateful family. Sam muttered apologies as he cut it up with his pocketknife, then wiped off some of Dean's blood from his wing, cleaning it a little, and pressed it firmly onto the dirt clump. To anyone driving by it would look like some animal was hit by a car. A massive amount of blood was sometimes seen by the smallest of highway animal victims. “That should buy us some time. The helicopter might not have had a perfect pinpoint location for us when it went down. Now we just gotta turn off this road ASAP and get him under cover.”

    Dean's head was fuzzy. His mind was swimming. Waves crashing inside his skull. He could tell the others were doing things but it was hard to concentrate. His muscles still burned and his wing was getting numb. Bobby came up to him and rubbed the bridge of his nose in soothing, reassuring strokes. Wow. That feels nice. Like  _so_ nice. 

    “You did good, Son.”

    Dean rumble purred. His eyes drooping further. Closing often. 

    “Can't sleep yet, gotta get us to safety right? Gotta make sure Sam is safe.” Bobby encouraged.

    Dean nodded slowly, tiredly, and lifted his head a little, laying it back down with a thump and a grunt. When did his head get so heavy? He tried again, held a deep breath and forced it up over his shoulders. Neck forming an 'S' shape. His front end pushed back, front feet stepping back one at a time, and his chest was lifted slowly into the air again. His hind quarters were a bitch to lift but his tail helped, coiling around and pushing up as well. Dean limped forward a little, like a newborn foal. Scanning left and right for where his brother was.

    “Over here, Son! Gotta get Sam down this tractor tram line. Going the back way to that farm.” Bobby instructed and led the way, jogging ahead as Dean tracked the movement with his eyes. Sam got into the Impala quickly and drove down a little ways, letting Bobby in before continuing on at a very slow pace. Dean staggered after, trying so hard to stay upright, and not to leave a trail. His tail swished back and forth, messing up the paw prints as he went. Turning his head around to make sure that no trace of them was left. He nodded to himself again, satisfied he could do that right. He was a good boy. Good hunter. Bobby said so. Must be true. Keep Sammy safe. Thoughts were kept short so he could keep them together.

    He yawned greatly. His wing didn't hurt so much, probably shock setting in. Adrenalin perhaps. He didn't care, so long as it didn't bother him while he made sure his Sammy was safe.

    Sam drove on, a thrillingly speedy 12 miles per hour as Dean's front half stumbled in the rear window after them, his body taking up nearly all of the rear view. Anything above the dragon's bony clavicle was lost to the roof of the Impala. “Got to be the slowest monster chase ever. I think I could jog faster then this.” Sam chuckled halfheartedly. “You know,” Sam paused, looking at Bobby from the corner of his eye, “I don't like how you keep using my safety to get him to do stuff. He's gonna resent it.”

    “What do you want me to do? It's in his nature. He wants to protect you. If it were just him looking out for his own hide, he would have given up with a grin on his face. Gone down swinging, sure, but he wouldn't have pushed quite so  _hard_ . He doesn't care about himself like he does for you. So yeah, if I have to put you in fake danger to get him to move his ass, I'm gonna do it again and again. Because both of you are my responsibility and your Winchester version of suicide constantly gets in the way of that. Why are you both so ready to throw your own lives away?  _Eagerly_ ? It's like you boys don't even care that others care about you too.”

    Sam was quiet after that. Creeping along the tram lines. The only sounds being the Impala's engine, tires whispering on the dirt, and the lumbering thumps of uneven footsteps behind them. 

    There were several choices for farm houses and barns. Bobby spotted one amid a lone corn field with a cattle trailer nearby. That would be their best bet. They had talked it over, and holing up in some poor farmer's house or barn might involve kidnapping the family to keep them from calling the cops, and even then, those people that were after Dean would no doubt search every single dwelling around. The three of them would put the innocent families at risk for no reason beyond laziness. Grand theft auto was the way to go. Stay on the move. Sam and Dean had saved enough lives, he figured that the universe owed them an old cattle trailer. 

    Dean stalled on the side of the tram line road. Panting even harder then before. The dry sound of the breaths was hard to listen to. His eyes were hooded and unfocused again. Probably using just his hearing to track the car.

    “He needs water. And food, and rest and damn, I just want to take care of him. Let him at least rest for half a day at least.” Sam punched the steering wheel as they waited for Dean to catch his breath again and start walking. Sam put it in park, got out, and Bobby scooted over to the driver's seat. Sam walked up to Dean and patted his arm. “Hey, Littlefoot. Gonna walk with you ok?”

    Dean's weary gaze eventually found Sam, first trailing the sensations of heat against his arm. Something warm was touching it. Then to the arm attached to the warm hand, and finally over to the top of Sam's head. He nodded a little. He never felt so heavy in his life. Sam wrapped the limb with both arms and tugged. Dean smirked. As if the biped could move even that one arm. Dean lifted it and made it look like Sam yanked him forward. Stumbling headfirst as Sam nearly lost his balance. 'u strong' he signed with that hand, eyebrows raised in surprise. Sam nearly missed the message and chuckled, flexing his guns. 

    “Someone's gotta be in this family. Now come on ya lazy jerk. Jeez take on 5 little armored trucks and a military chopper and you get all weak in the knees like a newborn kitten.”

    Dean shrugged and nodded sarcastically. He licked his lips and as they passed some of the corn crops on either side, blocking out the view all around, he smelled them and ate some of the dew heavy leaves. Something, anything to wet his parched mouth. Each lollop forward, he'd lean to the left or right with his head and lick the passing plants, gathering up more dew. Surprisingly it helped out and they made it to the back lot of some farm. The storage area for all manner of vehicles. Rusted out hulks next to brand new harvesters. Sam hopped up to the cattle trailer and made quick work of hot wiring it. Bobby turned the Impala off and found some gas cans in a little tool shed for the riding lawnmower. He filled up the Impala with what he could find and went to help Sam unload the cattle trailer of everything inside to make room for Dean. Dean, meanwhile stood guard, as in, laid down and watched them work. He must have dozed because suddenly there was the trailer with a few blankets on one side and a tarp attached to the other three sides. The back ramp extended down. Impala ready to follow behind. 

    Sam was moving his broken wing. Dean looked over to see what he was doing to it. 

    “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you just yet. Gotta re-wrap your wing so it heals straight.”

    Dean nodded again tiredly. He was far less stubborn when tired apparently. Agreeing readily to their decisions. He laid back down on his side, angling the wing better so Sam didn't have to reach to far. Bobby found two long rebar and they first padded the hell out of the wing finger and attached the rebar to both sides and padded it some more. They couldn't splint it to the next wing finger unless they wrapped his whole wing up so they used a roll of duct tape to attach it to the webbing on the top and bottom of the wing. Wrapping it around his thumb to help hold it in place. The break being along the second long bone of the index finger, not close enough to the wing wrist or wing end tip to wrap it easier. They'd have to cut the webbing and wrapped it around just that bone and muscle. That was  _not_ gonna happen. No telling if cut webbing would heal without leaving a permanent hole. If it was any of his other wing fingers then his index, they would have had to wrap up the entire wing so none of it moved. So he kinda lucked out. This way, if he absolutely had to, he could probably still fly. Not that he was looking forward to a repeat of that terrifying experience. But, they couldn't throw away any advantage they had against this nameless enemy. A flying dragon was better then a grounded one.

    Dean woke again to the smell of raw food. 

    Bobby had found a goat on the farm and humanely killed it, taken off its head, and brought it back to Dean after adding a special 'seasoning' to it deep inside the body, courtesy of Bobby's handgun. The herb should knock him out once they hit the road so he can sleep painlessly. “Sorry its not cooked. Don't want to start a fire to give us away.”

    Dean shrugged and grinned at Bobby. He ate the whole goat in one crunchy mouthful. It went down hard but at least it was something in his stomach. Bobby brought over some ears of corn from the field nearby and handed those over as well. “That couldn't have tasted all that great, sorry.” Dean grinned wider and signed, 'thanks' before eating the shucked corn too. They discovered he could eat some vegetables but not too much, his stomach would expel anything more then a few pounds with violence. Bobby had put some corn cobs in the back of the Impala for him and Sam later, if it was too risky getting fast food. 

    “Ok, we're set. Is he ready? Are you ready Dean?” Sam asked, wiping off his hands and gesturing to the trailer. “Couldn't find anymore blankets for you to lay on, had to use what we found to cover up the sides so no one sees you. I think you'll fit in it just fine. Just uh, don't move around too much once we get on the road. One wrong move and the trailer could tip over.”

    Dean sighed and got to his feet again reluctantly. He felt a little tingle down under and gave a quick sign to Sam and went around back of the storage garage.

    “What's he doing?”

    “Uh... bathroom break.”

    “Oh, well, make sure it's not smoking this time. Don't have the fire extinguisher.”

    An inappropriate laugh burst out of Sam. He heard Dean cover up his 'droppings' and then walk a little better back to the car. Seemingly lighter on his toes coming back around. “Should I be concerned?”

    Dean rolled his eyes and made a fist to Sam, palm side up, and lifted his foot and a half long middle finger at him.

    As Sam tried to regain some semblance of composure after his laughing fit, Dean lumbered over to the cattle trailer. At least all he had to do was walk 30 feet, get in, and stay down. No more fighting. He was  _so tired_ . He fit in, with little room to spare and settled on his side, hind legs kicked out and broken wing resting neatly on top. His head lifted and he shifted around so that he was resting on his elbows so he could see the cab of the semi if he angled his head just right. He looked back to Sam and signed, 'good go'.

    “Yeah, we are good to go too. Bobby you got the truck or Impala?”

    “I'll take the car, he would probably feel better seeing you in there.”

    Dean nodded sheepishly. He wanted his brother as close as possible. He loved Bobby as well, but his brother needed Dean to protect him.

    “Alright, get settled because you may be in here for awhile. I'll try to find a place to stop so we can hunt for some breakfast but I don't want to stop too often. Speaking of, Bobby, do we have a destination yet?”

    “I was thinking about Rufus's cabin.”

    “Ok, sounds good. Better send a text his way to let him know we are coming and Deans uh, situation.”

    “He wont care, he's probably knee deep in Blue label. Hurt his leg and is taking a sabbatical from huntin' for a few months.” Bobby sent a text anyway, just letting his old partner know that they'll be there and will need to stay off radar.

    After a minute of getting the cab seat adjusted to his tall frame and familiarizing himself with the controls, the trailer lumbered to life and he eased it quietly down the long road. Hoping beyond hope that the family this belongs to stays asleep. Once he got a few blocks away, and making sure that the Impala was close behind, he put on the gas and sped on down the road. Dean fell asleep almost instantly. 

 

 


	6. Now what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imbedded drawings I made of Dragon Dean! hopefully you guys can see them, I've never done this before. I stink at colored pencils, so please be gentle! what's on paper is kinda what I have in my head for what he looks like. Imagine its more kick ass then whats here ;)
> 
> Balthazar surprises Castiel with his dream job and Dean and the others make a stop for a quick bite that ends up biting back.

This is in Chapter 6. Dean is cold while sleeping and then suddenly there's this little heater he wants to snuggle up to.  
Some Dragon Dean sketches. Playing around with the design. He's kinda a cross between all of them! When he gets older he will look more rough. This is like, early 20 something Dean. (btw I'm not used to colored pencils and he's supposed to be tan under the wings, not sickly yellow! I colored that in the middle of the night with inadequate light. don't do that kids!)

 

 

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Chapter Six:

Now what?

 

 

    Balthazar woke Castiel with a hot mug of coffee. Castiel stretched on the pulled out sofabed and cracked his toes by curling them inward and stretched up with his hands until they brushed the couch cushions at his head. “mmmhannxs.”

    “I don't even know what that noise was supposed to mean but you're welcome. Now. What do you want for breakfast?”

    “Nuthin.” he mumbled around the mug once he sat up and took a slow slurp. Careful not to drop any of it onto his only set of pajamas.

    “Ok, pancakes. You're in luck, Mate. I have a mix.” he grinned, slapping Castiel's knee as he straightened up. “Your toothbrush is in your bag at the front, my toothpaste is in the medicine cabinet. Do _not_ read any of the medicine's labels if you value our friendship.”

    “At this point, nothing would surprise me Balth. Just, I dunno, wake me when the divorce papers go through.” he turned to his side, setting the coffee down to the couch, careful not to jostle it too much.

    Balthazar gave a sympathetic sigh, “Gotta sign them first, Cassie.” he covered his friend up in the blanket again, taking the mug and setting it onto an endtable. “I left the papers there. This, my friend, is a drama free zone.” he gestured around him with a hand.

    Balthazar's house was sparsely furnished with apparently whatever furniture his neighbors had put on their curbs. Since he didn't have a proper job, the 'waste not want not' philosophy was wholeheartedly embraced. He would pick up small jobs for friends for the mortgage bills, several lab's hired him for temp work, the tedious testing one biological agent against hundreds of others, mainly involving a syringe plunger and a whole stack of waiting vessels filled with different samples. Each series of tests were different but the act of putting biological sample 'h2g2' into hundreds of testing tubes would give him a blinding migraine at the bloody mindlessness of it all. As well as a sore wrist. But other then that, he relied heavily on the blackmail payments from CEO's of company's that had more expendable money then wives.

    Castiel wanted to just sleep forever but nature called and he stumbled out of the lumpy off smelling bed and went to use the facilities, making a quick stop for his bag and the set of clean cloths inside. He had to borrow a razor from Balthazar but his friend did say to make himself at home. “What would I do without him?” Castiel grimaced at the face that looked back at him in the mirror. Almost wishing he had some makeup to cover up the black bags and red rims around his eyes. He didn’t think that he cried _that_ much but... well... the love of his life left him because she didn't want to understand the _real_ him. He still could hear her nickname for him echo in his head, “Be an angel for me, Clarence, and hand me that?”

    He rubbed a calloused hand down his eyes and face and stifled a sob. His body decided to yawn instead and he congratulated it for the genius choice. Balthazar's toothpaste tasted different, or maybe it was the water. Nope. Neither. It was the hangover residue from last nights binge drinking with Balth. He looked around and saw the empty glass of water and aspirin bottle on the counter. Both signs that this wasn’t his first trip to the restroom this morning. The foul taste in his mouth was brushed away vigorously and left a nice cool minty taste behind. Wonderful.

    “Balth, gonna shower. Don’t run any hot water please.” he called out and Balth replied with instructions on how to get the water the right temperature without freezing or scalding flesh. It involved lots of knob turning and punching the walls.

    Castiel considered taking a 'whore's bath' in the sink. Warm washcloth. Good choice.

    “Oh! That was fast. Breakfast is almost done.” he said as he flipped a few more pancakes onto a waiting plate. Even the dishes looked second hand and salvaged. “Only have maple syrup and there's more coffee in the pot.”

    Castiel shuffled over for more coffee and started up another pot once that was downed by the two men. “So, what did I miss?”

    “Hmm?”

    “You're up before me, Balth, which means that you didn't actually sleep last night. What happened?”

    A sly grin peeked from the side of Balthazar's turned head. “Oh, nothing. Just that while you were throwing up your breakfast, lunch, and dinner yesterday, Wes and Brandon sent me an email.”

    “Oh, and?”

    “They intercepted a message between two of those hunters. Not your two, but others that are after the same thing. They said that they might have found the location of the second dragon. Get this, someone really did kidnap it and in a couple of days they are going to go retrieve it.”

    “What? Really? How?”

    “Well first they said they were getting the manpower together and then the vehicles. 5 armored trucks and a helicopter.”

    “But, it took dozens of soldiers and massive amount of firepower to catch the mother, and they think that just 5 trucks and a chopper could take the other one down?”

    “They said it's less then a month old, shouldn't be a problem.”

    “Who are the hunters that found it?”

    “There's one guy named Nick Lucifer and the other is Joseph Azazel. Wes and Brandon are researching them now. Azazel is apparently a collector of sorts for the dangerous supernatural monsters that are out there. While Nick Lucifer wants to just kill them. They make money off of selling the monsters that they catch still alive to some research facility close to Canada. Don’t ask where, we don't know.”

    “Oh. So they found out where it is and are going to go get it. Where is it?”

    “Sioux Falls, South Dakota. No address yet. Otherwise other hunters or interested buyers might get there first before their group is ready to go in. If you ask me, they're fools for going after it at all. Whoever stole the baby knows more about it then they do by now. And since we haven’t heard of any missing people in that city means they have the baby monster contained already. Whatever they’re doing is working and I say leave them be.” Balthazar said over his shoulder and plated the last of the pancakes.

    Both of the men ate in companionable silence until most of the food was gone.

    “Still.” Castiel started around a mouthful, taking another sip and clearing his throat. “Still, I'd kill for a chance to get to study it.”

    “Hmmm.” Balthazar agreed. The mother is already 'called for' by the military but the baby is, in a way, up for grabs. They'd need an expert to help take care of the wild monster once they catch it. Presuming they want it alive, they'd need someone to figure out how to keep it alive. “Perhaps I could help with that.”

    Castiel looked up. “How?”

    “Gotta make some calls. And you gotta get ready for work. I put a suit in the bottom of your bag and you can borrow my car till we can pick yours up again from the restaurant. They called, they want it gone by tonight.” Balthazar got up from the table, cleared it putting the dishes in the sink and shoving his friend to the bedroom to change. “Promise I'll let you know what's new when you get back.”

    Castiel squinted at him and cocked his head to the side before making a flippant gesture with his hand and went to get dressed. Balthazar always came up with some crazy plans but some of them actually worked. So maybe, it may _be_. He'd have a chance to see this thing after all.

    Hope blossomed in his chest at the thought of actually seeing a real live baby monster up close and he was distracted the whole time at work. People gave him a wide berth wherever he went because the Castiel that they knew did not have such a goofy spaced out grin on his face. Especially after the news of his newly ex-ed wife leaving spread like wildfire throughout the labs. Something was up.

    Several days passed and he stayed at Balthazar's the whole time, going home once to pack up more of his belongings, cloths mostly. And it was loosely decided that he would just move in with Balthazar, perhaps selling his old house for the money to pay for his friends mortgage. The two bachelors fit as comfortable roommates.

    “Cassie! Oh my sweet, _Cassie_!”

    “Wish you'd stop calling me that.” Castiel harrumphed, looking over the edge of the couch to see Balthazar bounding into the room with just a v-neck shirt and a pair of boxers on. “And would you put on some cloths! _Jeez_.”

    Balthazar swept into the room like he was dancing in a ball and kissed Castiel's forehead. “No.” he said sweetly. Balthazar slapped down a few papers into Castiel's lap and perched on the arm of the couch, burrowing his toes under Castiel's thigh.

    “What is this?”

    “All you gotta do is fill out your name and info and I got you a position at the 'Wolfe Labs' where they took the big momma dragon!”

    Castiel's jaw dropped. “ _What?!_ ”

    “Yup!” Balthazar practically sang. “You will not have direct contact with the dragon, this is as close as I could get you to it. But, if on some random night after everyone else leaves and you have a few free hours, there's no one there to say you can not go take a gander at her?”

    “H- how? How did you do this?”

    “I am a wizard.”

    Castiel looked from the papers back to Balthazar. “But... but _how?_ ”

    “Remember that paper you wrote way back when that I made you submit? The one talking about how to use some supernatural creatures for our benefit? What tests to do on them to figure out how to utilize their unique physiology's to help better mankind? Or even what tests _could_ be preformed to find out those abilities? That one?”

    Castiel nodded dumbly, the cogs slowly turning again. “ _What?_ ”

    Balth leaned forward and brushed a stray lock from Castiel's face then open hand slapped it. “If you wish to be employed by the big wigs you gotta start speaking in more then bloody monosyllabic words.”

    “God... this is outstanding!”

    “Not on the lips.” he grinned and kissed Castiel's forehead again as Castiel pulled his friend down for a bear hug.

 

 

 

 

 

    “Azazel! You fucking bastard! I thought you said it would be a baby!”

    “It was! I assure you. It was only born three weeks ago. It's supposed to be a baby, a child at best. They were able to fit it in that old black car all the way to Singer Salvage. I just wish we knew at the time what to look for. We weren't there for reconnaissance, Nick heard about the death of Dean Winchester and wanted to pay his respects. Dean was apparently the one that took down the monster that killed his daughter's family. A Lamia. Or so that's what we were told. The hunter's network sometimes has a few bugs in it. No one likes to share a hunt unless it is mutually beneficial or the monster is just too big for a two or even three man unit. How the hell Mr. Singer and Sam Winchester were able to not only catch the thing but contain it for so long... it's unfathomable.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Yes, we were there just a week ago and it was nowhere to be found so it was able to fit inside the house or somewhere hidden.”

    “What did you think going after it now that it's half the size of the female dragon? You could have called off the hunt the second we saw how big that bastard had gotten. What we saw couldn’t fit in any house that didn’t have a 10 foot wide door out front.”

    “Not my fault.” he flipped a hand.

    “Then who's fault is it? We were completely unprepared for that thing! It injured half of our team and the other refuses to help in hunting it down again.”

    “Talk to them.” Azazel ordered. “Now we know how big it is, how loyal it is to those men. And bonus, it's now injured. We have a chance but we must act now before they have a chance to escape any further.”

    The two stared each other down, each sporting bright angry bruises from the car accident. They were in separate armored trucks when the attack happened, but the result was more or less the same. All five of the black armored trucks crashed, two of them so horribly mangled it was a wonder anyone survived. All in the space of a 10 minute chase start to finish. The helicopter was a bust as well, it landed in a copse of trees and unless they chop the trees down or get another helicopter to airlift the hulk out, it will stay there tilting dangerously to the aft like a demented artist sculpture.

    Azazel continued as if talking to a small child. “Don’t worry, everything will work out. We get some more hunters together, relatives of the ones attacked and injured by it and convince them to avenge their family's reputation. No hunter likes to admit defeat against a monster. We searched Singer's house and found several rifles with special handmade rounds in them. They must have made them up as a last resort to take it down. We haven't identified the plant base yet, but we will soon have a means to incapacitate it. I want it alive if possible, dead is less preferred, but, acceptable. So long as the hide is mostly intact.”

    “And what about your buddy, Lucifer.” the man snorted derisively, “What's he gonna do while we are playing botanists?”

    “ _Nick_ ,” Azazel enunciated forcefully, making it known that his partner hates his last name, and to not use it unless necessary. “Is staking out Singer Salvage. If they return, we will know about it and have several traps already being set up. The damned thing made a nest in a storage garage! So, we placed several tripwires all around and as soon as we get more of that plant, we will fill up the explosives with that and silver shards.”

    “Why silver?”

    “The mother had a bad reaction to it at the labs. Or so I heard. Too bad she's out of our reach.” Azazel said disdainfully.

    “They ever figure out how she could have given birth without an adult male around?”

    “Working on it, so I hear.”

    “I'll see what I can do to scrounge up a second team. Right now it looks like its just you, _Nick_ ,” He rolled his eyes, the name Lucifer fit that hunter better, calm demeanor hiding a cold black heart, “Gordan, two others whom I never got their names, and myself.”

    “That's all we need to track them down. We can do most of our work separately and keep in touch via phone.” Azazel's eyes glittered. “Let's see, it's been a day since we last saw them on the road, so let's start there. They can't have gotten too far with a monster that size. They would need a place to hole up or find something to transport it.”

    “Already on it, there was a cattle trailer that was stolen that same night. Reported early this morning when the owner heard someone driving off with it. That could haul the monster, it would be cramped and probably claustrophobic. Lets just hope that they make a mistake, assume that something with wings wants to be put in such a small cage. At the salvage yard, it had plenty of room to move, now that they are on the move it will be agitated, angry, or, scared. All of which are great for us because when they don’t have a clear level head on their shoulders, too stressed out from being on the run, mistakes happen, and we will find them.”

    “You’ve been practicing that speech haven’t you?” Azazel chuckled.

    “Does it show?” the other grinned and waved his hand for Azazel to leave first. “After you, Boss.”

 

 

 

  
    “Is he awake?”

    “Don't know. It's been 14 hour so so. He _must_ be hungry by now.”

    “Dean?” Sam spoke up.

    “I think he's cold.”

    “Figures, he needs external heat. I don’t know how to get him warm, the heater in the cab wouldn’t be strong enough to heat up the trailer. Especially since the whole thing is basically made of holes. We need to find a better way to transport him.”

    “And in the meantime?”

    Sam shrugged. He climbed up into the trailer's hold as Bobby followed after, shutting the gate behind them to keep out the chill of the night. Sam patted Dean's flank, letting him know that he was there and not to move too fast or else Sam and Bobby would be hurt. Climbing over his tail and hind legs, Sam moved closer to get a better view of his head.

    Dean didn’t move at all, save for the shivering and twitching his body did involuntarily. His head was half under his injured wing as it tried to cover him up in what warmth there was. Dean laid on his side, all four feet close to his body and covered with the wing. It was always dangerous waking up normal human hunter Dean, now it was damn near suicidal if Dean reacted badly to being woken up. Sam gently patted Dean's wing as he got within reach, letting his gigantic sleeping brother know that he moved closer, and inspected the wound and bandages with careful fingers. He lifted up a choice strip of duct tape and with what little light bled into the trailer, he was pleased with what he saw.

    “I think it's healing alright. Need to find him some food and more water.” Sam announced, the ground shifted around him and he had just enough time to see an enormous clawed hand shoot out at him. It grabbed him around his midsection, pinning his arms to his sides, and swiftly brought him closer to Dean's body. Snatched up as easily as a ken doll. “ _Dean?!_ ” Sam yelped, as Dean brought over his other hand as well, cradling Sam to his chest and underbelly. Dean made a shuddering purr sound and brought Sam up, splaying him across his 3 foot wide front, curling both arms around and then covered up both brothers with his injured wing. Cocooning Sam in.

    “Sam! Are you alright?”

    After some shifting and testing against the hold Dean had on him he sighed defeatedly and said a little strained, “He's using me like a damned heating pad... Or teddy bear. I don't freakin' know. He is cold as hell and still out of it.” Sam's voice came a little muffled, covered by Dean's wing, limbs and oh, add a massive heavyass dragon head. Of course. This isn't weird as hell. Nope. No way. Totally normal to be smothered by a cold, clingy dragon. Holding him like a little girl would hold a kitten.

    Dean nuzzled Sam's back with his wide chin, rubbing shoulder to shoulder with his jaw, and the end of his snout along Sam's lower back. Sam noted that Dean's head was about the size of his head and torso. A deep, more contented purr rumbled all throughout Sam's body. “Oh. My. God. _Dean_... at least let me lay down straight, you got my... my leg is all bent weird...” he tried kicking at Dean's knee and it shifted so Sam was now flush with his whole underbelly. Then brought up a little ways so that Sam's chest was over Dean's heart. He could feel the slow powerful beats of it thundering underneath the purr. It was oddly... soothing. One beat every couple of seconds, less then half the amount Sam's was supplying.

    The only thing stopping this from being more like Sam being hugged by a enormous cat, is that Dean had scales and not fur. Still, it could be worse. Dean could be _conscious_ and doing this. When you're asleep, you can't really be blamed for what you do. At least with Dean still drugged, his 'stubborn' walls were down and he could just accept the help. Even in the form of little brother turned heater. Sam remembered years ago when he was a small boy, climbing into Dean's bed and cuddling up with his brother during a lightning storm or after their father had gone on a too long hunt. Dean was always a comfort for Sam, reliable. He never teased Sam for wanting to feel secure at night. It was when Sam turned 8 that he started to refused to do it anymore. Dean never minded, but suspected some of the other kids in Sam's class made fun of another kid for sleeping in their parent's bed. Dean practically raised Sam, and was more of a parent then their dad. Sam knew that some of the one night stands his older brother went on was just to have a warm body to sleep next to. Dean was in it, not just the sex, but for the cuddling afterwords. He probably missed it. Just knowing that someone cares enough to be there. Dean's sleeping mind felt a warm presence and wanted that bit of comfort. He was cold and lonely, and then suddenly, _not_.

    “Bobby? Don't bother waking him. I think he found a way to warm himself up. Could you at least, I don't know, get a blanket? Cover him up so that when I leave and take my body heat with me, he's not _freezing_ cold again? He can retain some of it?”

    A soft snapping sound was heard outside of the wing.

    “What are you doing?”

    “Taking pictures.” Bobby shrugged and chuckled.

    “What? You can't even see what...” Sam struggled, Dean hugged tighter. “ _oof!_ ”

    “I can see the bottoms of your boots. That's all we need to know. Now that you're cuddle-buddies with your brother, I'm gonna take the opportunity to find us some food. Specifically _him_. We have to be extra careful where we get it because those black op wannabe's are gonna be searching for any clue in the area. We got some miles under our belt, but we are not out of the woods yet.”

    “Shit, alright. Wish I could help but uh, yeah. Happy hunting.” Sam offered lamely, wiggling his feet to show just how much literal wiggle room he has.

    “If he gets too handsy, remember, 'Just say no'.”

    “Fuck you too, Bobby.”

    All Sam heard was muffled laughter as the back ramp opened and shut again. Followed by the crinkling sound of the tarp being tied back down. Sam shivered a little. Being a heater to an ice cold brother sucked. No. Literally. Dean sucked the heat from his body. After a few minutes Dean shivered again too. Sam heard the mild moans he emitted and the grinding of teeth. Oh shit. Dean wasn't gonna set a fire to warm up is he?

“Dean? Dean buddy, don't do what I think you wanna do. That would be a bad fucking idea.” Sam wiggled harder, freeing one arm. He tried to reach behind his back to Dean's head which was still resting along his spine. He felt around and found his lip and tugged a little. Dean grunted and shifted out a little, Sam couldn't see, but one bleary eye cracked open for a second.

    “Dean? Seriously, wake up before you try to set any fires. Please? That's just common sense.” Sam struggled a little harder, turning around in the very tight area. He patted Dean's jaw and held onto the upper lip, awkwardly holding it down to the bottom so that the mouth would stay closed long enough for him to keep turning. He had to let go and once he was facing out, he grabbed Dean's wide muzzle from under it in both arms and held tight.

    “murf.” Dean mumbled, eyes opening up a little more, pulling his head up. Something came with it and was holding his mouth. It moved. What the hell? Dean ground his teeth again, the restraint fastened tighter. Dean forced his mouth open easily and shut it with a quick snap of teeth. He let loose a growl and that was the end of that. Whatever was holding his mouth shut was gone just as fast. He looked all around but found nothing.

    He heard something under his chin and dipped it down, only seeing legs and feet.

    'Seriously. What the hell?' he grumbled.

    He sniffed at the legs and found it was Sam. Whyyy? His thoughts trailed off as he felt squirming in his arms, letting go, Sam stumbled to a kneel then crawled away far enough so that Dean could see him. Dean lifted up his hand, giving his brother something to hold as he stood there half on and off of Dean's hindfoot. Not enough room for him to stand on the trailer's floor. Dean shifted away from him and Sam stumbled again, finally standing on just the floor of the trailer and Dean's limbs retreating underneath his body. The wing folded up as neatly as possible and Dean lifted his still bleary head up to Sam's chest, looking up at his eyes.

    He freed his right hand, shifting again and making the whole trailer rock and groan and signed, 'w t f'

    Sam tried to figure out if that was supposed to be a word or if his brother actually remembered the abbreviation for 'what the fuck'.

    “Uhh...” Sam trailed off, “you were cold?”

    Dean nodded, unsure. Not understanding what that had to do with Sam's issues in the lack of personal space.

    “Nevermind,” Sam didn't want to embarrass his brother and asked instead, “are you still cold?”

    Dean's head bobbled. So, a little yes and a little no. His huge clawed hand teeter tottered and he shrugged.

    “Bobby is working on getting you some dinner, and then we're gonna ditch this trailer and find a better truck to haul you with. Hopefully one with a heater for you.”

    Dean yawned greatly and Sam looked away. Damn those teeth seem to get longer by the day.

    “How are you feeling?”

    'sleep'. Dean looked like he wanted to yawn again. 'where we?'

    “Where are we _now_ , or where are we going?”

    'yes'.

    “We are about 3/4ths of the way to Bobby's old partner's cabin. Rufus Turner. It's deep enough in the woods that we can hunt for your food and hunker down until we figure out what's going on. Who's after us.”

    'me'.

    “Us.” Sam said firmly. “We are not gonna leave you. So don't ditch us. 'Cause it's gonna be a bitch to get you again. But we _will_ do it. So save us the trouble and stick around, ok?”

    Dean smiled a little. Almost shyly. 'k'.

    “Good, now, I'm gonna shoot Bobby a text and see if he has some takeout ready for you. He and I ate not too long ago. Got some leftover's in the cab. You want some?”

    Dean's mouth salivated but he reluctantly shook his head. The amount of food that he would need is far greater then whatever Sam has. And Sammy needs that food more. Afterall, Dean is just along for the ride at this point. Can't really do much. Can't help drive them to the cabin. He huffed irritatedly and rested his head on his foreleg. Conversation apparently over.

    Sam pulled at Dean's heavy tail until he took pity and moved it for him, bringing it closer to Dean's front end. It was obvious what Sam's intentions were and Dean was feeling for all the world like a couch set. Better a couch then monster. Sam was initially gonna sit on the tail but changed his mind, taking a seat on Dean's forearm right next to his head and leaned up against Dean's bicep. It flexed behind him and Sam playfully nudged it back with an elbow like he was adjusting a pillow. Sam picked up his feet and put them on the tail like an ottoman, crossing the end of his legs. Dean was secretly glad that Sam felt so comfortable around him. Actions always spoke louder then words for Dean. Especially after the major screw-up the scalier Winchester did the other morning. Mental note, stop showing Sam sharp teeth.

    Sam leaned his left elbow on Dean's forehead, perfect height, as he typed away, and after a minute, a reply text came back. Dean smirked. Debating whether or not to tell his little brother that his phone was better at dragon chirping then he was. Even if it was just chirping the words 'flower petal' over and over.

    “Bobby found a deer trail, but, it's kinda old. It would take him an hour to hike out and another back. Did you want to have a go at it? How are you feeling? Besides sleepy.”

    Dean just gave a blank look to Sam.

    “Oh right, need your hand to talk.” Sam got up and took a step back and Dean moved up his arm and signed, 'we hunt'.

    “Don't know if we can keep up with you.”

    Dean looked at his hand, considering what word to use in his limited hand speak library. 'on?'

    “On what?”

    'me'. Dean's brow furrowed. Not sure how to phrase his request. He was freakin' hungry and deer don't tend to stay in one place for very long. If he went out alone, he could make it there in no time, but, that would leave Sam and Bobby defenseless. Himself as well, considering he doesn't feel full of liquid fire yet. He'd have to rely on teeth and claws against guns and trucks. 'on come me, we hunt'. His longest sentence yet! Dean grinned, proud.

    “If you're purposefully going for yoda speak, it's hilarious but I don't get it.” Sam gave a sympathetic grin.

    Dean sighed heavily. He knew what he wanted to say but translating abstract ideas or even straight forward ones were giving him a headache. Screw it. It would take all night to explain. Dean stood up and backed out of the trailer carefully, each hind foot scrabbling for purchase, blindly hitting the ramp and descending down. Sam followed after and stood back as Dean turned around, mindful of his tail, and went out a few dozen feet. He looked up and down the road and gave a few very careful and agonizingly slow flaps of his wings. Testing them out as well as stretching the muscles. How long was he sleeping? Man his stomach hurt.

    “Any kinks?”

    'what?'

    “Uh, soreness. You hurt anywhere?”

    Dean brought his wing carefully over to Sam's eye level. Sam soothed a hand along the bandage, checking it and frowning. “Gotta change the dressing. You bled through on the bottom. Wait here.” Sam went to the Impala and dug around in the backseat. He found his own duffel and pulled out a threadbare flannel. “It's soft and clean. The duct tape is gonna be a bitch so uh, I'm sorry. I'm gonna have to pull it all off and then the rebar and then the old dressing. Might take a hot minute. Gonna need another shirt.” Sam mumbled to himself. Dean looked over to the Impala parked a few feet away and sniffed around inside the backseat, barely able to get his head into the area. His horns hooked on the inside of the door and he gingerly angled his head to pull it back out again, along with a second duffel.

    Sam looked under the wing and saw Dean bring out a canvas bag. He forgot he put it in there. “We don't have to use your old cloths. Mine are fine, we can always buy new cloths.”

    Dean still held out the duffel in his teeth, pursing his lips, obviously trying to hide the sight of his teeth from Sam. Sam wiped a hand across his face. He reached for the duffel and pulled it from Dean's mouth. Dean grinned at him, lips still firmly closed and nodded. “Fine. But when we get you back to normal we are gonna get you all new cloths. You deserve it after all this bullshit.”

    Dean cocked his head. He wondered what Sam was talking about. He is normal. 'I good.'

    “Yeah, you're being very good holding still. This wont take long, almost done with the first layer of tape.”

    'no. I good.'

    Sam said after a minute, “I can't really watch your hands and do this. Talk to me in a minute ok?”

    Dean acknowledged him again. This seemed to be something that his brother and dadfriend wouldn’t let go. They want old him back. Maybe that's the only reason they're sticking around. He doesn't want to loose his family. If he has to change everything who he is to stay with them, is that really fair to him? Dean huffed a sigh. He had to admit, becoming a biped again would make things a little easier. He'd have to give up being the biggest strongest being alive, but, being a dragon doesn’t seem to be all that great in this world of bipeds. They feared him instead of admired him. Or, like those black truck men, hated him and wanted him dead. Sam accidentally pulled out a couple of scales with the duct tape and he flinched back, head jerking to the sharp sting feeling. Maybe he was more sore then he thought.

    “Shit! I'm so sorry, Dean! You ok?” Sam's hand hovered over the pink area of under scales.

    Dean brought his wing up and over Sam's head to look at it closer. He shrugged and dipped it back in front of his little brother again. Motioning with his head to continue.

    “I'm sorry, I'm gonna pad that extra careful. You are healing well, but I wish I could stitch this wound up to heal faster. There's no skin to move, your scales aren’t exactly needle friendly.”

    'sorry'.

    “Don't be sorry, it's not your fault you're this... this...” Sam faltered with his hand waving in the air to include all of Dean's body, his hand dropped to the wing again and said firmly, “Not your fault.”

    Dean stayed still, wing getting a little achy just from holding it still and up for so long and once Sam was done re-applying the bandage he took a few hesitant wing flaps and gave his approval. The wing folded back up against his side and over his back his wing thumbs looked like they wanted to hook. He shook his head, changing his mind and dipped his head down to Sam.

    'on me we hunt'.

    “On you we hunt. You want me to get on you?”

    Dean grinned wider and nodded encouragingly.

    “Uh, this isn't like last time. You were like pony size and now you're more like a giraffe and an elephant got it on and had a love child. You're uh, _really_ tall now.”

    Dean rolled his eyes, the 'duh' needn’t not be signed. 'me fast' and then looked pointedly down to Sam from up high, 'u slow'. He then looked to the woods towards Bobby's scent trail. 'we hunt'.

    Sam's shoulders slumped. It was true, the only way to get Dean some dinner was if he went with. And there was no way he could keep up on foot. Doesn't mean he had to like it. “Fine just uh, don't drop me.”

    Dean nodded and turned to the Impala's trunk, lifting it with his nose a little wider and sniffed around.

    “What are you looking for?”

    Dean's brow furrowed. What the hell was that word? They had it before, when Sam piggy back rode. 'rope?'

    “Ah, ok, yeah, that would be easier to hold on. Got it somewhere over.... here!” Sam produced the towrope and looked up at Dean's 10 foot high shoulder. His knees trembled a little. Dean wasn't even full grown yet! The mother was 20 feet high at the shoulder. Dean's whole height was just shy of that.

    Dean laid down and motioned with his head for Sam to get on with it. Sam approached the living mass and hesitantly threw the bundle over Dean's resting shoulders and to the other side, walking around and tying it around his massive neck that was easily wider then Sam's body. He double knotted it and then looked at Dean's body for another place to put the rope so that he could be more secure. Dean lifted his wings, looking too. Dean's wings were attached from the wing shoulders to just above his rump. If there was a gap that would be terribly ineffectual for flight. Sam looked down to Dean's forearms and lifted one with Dean's help to thread the rope under one arm, over the back and around the other forearm and back to the neck rope and spine again.

    “There, I can get my legs under these ropes and hold on to the neck one. Like a weird ass seatbelt. It's a good thing your spine scales are just nubs along your shoulders or this would be a definite no go.”

    Dean dipped his head down and nudged Sam's back with his forehead, reminding him of just the day before when he picked Sam up with just his head.

    “NO FUCKING WAY!” Sam yelled and punched Dean's nose.

    Dean squawked, offended and signed, 'me good'.

    “I don't care if you can do it! There's no fucking way I am riding your head through the woods as you run 60 miles per hour! No. _Fucking_. Way.”

    Dean caught himself before suggesting he carry Sam in his mouth, as that would be the epitome of traumatic for Sam. And as he thought about it, he didn't really like being carried around in a dragon's mouth from old life either. He quirked his head, that word, 'how sign word?'

    “Which one?”

    Dean rolled his eyes, if he could sign it he could sign it.

    Sam realized his mistake. Running though the last few things he said, pausing at each word. “Uh, 'no', well you know no, what about the word, 'fucking'?”

    Dean nodded and pointed.

    “You want me to teach you how to sign curse words?”

    Dean licked his lips and nodded excitedly.

    “Oh my lord. Can't believe I'm doing this. But, old you was pretty proficient at using colorful language and if I want you to remember your old life, I suppose this can't hurt.” Sam more or less said to himself. “Ok, the word 'fuck' can be used for numerous things. I guess you can just throw it in anywhere in a sentence if you want to make a point. Don't do it in polite company though.”

    Dean chuckled. Sam laughed along with that. “Yeah, well, see if I take you to the theater or out to a restaurant if you get a potty mouth running. Ok. So the word fuck is F, U, C, K.” he said and signed at the same time. Dean practiced along with him and felt a thrill run down his spine all the way to the end of his tail where it started to wag mindlessly. Things were clicking in his head, deep down.

    “Add the letters, I, N, G, if you want to say the act of something. Like, fucking, is action or description. You know what? Nevermind. Your English skills are pretty good for only having started a week ago. We get you most of the time. All we gotta do is expand on it slowly. Like learning a new language even though you already knew this one before. Anyway, here is your old favorite phrase when the shit hits the fan, S,O,N, space, O,F, space, A, space, B,I,T,C,H.”

    Dean practiced it for a minute, putting it to memory.

    “Corrupting a dragon. Put a check mark on that bucket-list item.” Sam chuckled.

    Dean looked to the trail again, daylights wasting. 'come on bitch'

    “Points for the full sentence, Jerk.”

    Dean's brow furrowed deeply. That felt so familiar. _Right_. Something that should not be so warm and fuzzy feeling.

   Dean shook his head to clear it and lowered his left wing down as a step for Sam, hoisting him up easily to his back. Sam swung a leg over and got settled between the wing's shoulder blades. He wished he remembered to bring a blanket to sit on because Dean was bony as all hell there. Like sitting on a bag of golf balls. This aught to be fun.

    Dean felt him shift around and grunt a few times, lifting up on his feet a little, he got the message that wasn't audibly broadcast but still easily heard and pulled over his duffel. Handing it up to Sam.

    “You read my mind.” Sam patted Dean's neck and made sure there was nothing breakable in the clothes bag before setting it down underneath him and wiggling his butt to get it settled. “Alright! Giddy-up!”

    Before his little brother could loose what little nerve he built up, Dean stood up slowly, keeping his back level with the ground and pinned his wing wrists around Sam's legs. Wing thumbs searching out and finding Sam's ankles and holding them firmly to his sides.

    “Just like old times. Fells like it was only a week ago.” Sam chuckled. “ooohhh yeahhh.” he stretched it out in an act of obvious recollection. “It _was_ a week ago!”

    Dean turned his head around and looked down to Sam's shaggy head of hair. He brought up his hand so Sam could see it and signed, 'lame'. And took off on a quick jog, startling the hell out of Sam as wind rushed by his face around the neck in front of him. Trees whipped by even though Dean was taking it half speed. Going 30 some miles per hour through the forest with trees just a foot away on either side was enough for Sam to gasp and his heart to pound.

    Dean took that as permission to go _faster_. The asshole. Soon Sam's voice lost a man-card or two as Dean's ears began to ring. He kept his nose close to the ground, sniffing out Bobby's trail and slowed to a trot then a walk as Sam was heard panting behind him, voice going rough due to all the screaming. He croaked a little between holding in gasping breaths. Trying to calm his heart rate and mind.

    “Holy. _Shit_ .” Sam panted, “Don't ever...do that ever... _ever_ again. _You_ _**jerk** _!”

    Dean shrugged, which bounced Sam in the air a good foot and kept on walking, swinging his head back and forth just inches above the ground and found a fresher scent of his dadfriend. Dean turned his head to Sam, lowering his eyebrows and Sam put his finger to his own lips, shushing to be quiet.

    Dean hunched down and Sam eagerly got off, knowing that in order to get back to the car and trailer before dark, Dean would have to carry Sam and Bobby on a full stomach if all went well. Dean lifted a hand and held onto Sam and put him in front of a tree, showing him the obvious marks that Bobby cut into the bark to indicate the trail he took. An actual animal hunter's trick so that they don't get lost in the woods. Sam reached up and Dean took the hint, crouching down so that Sam could remove the ropes from his huge body. Dean patted Sam's shoulder with that hand, dropped it back down and Sam had to sidestep to avoid the wing as Dean started walking very quietly into the woods off of the worn trail. Sam put his phone to vibrate and texted Bobby his location and that Dean was gonna be coming up behind him.

    He got one back a minute later confirming he sighted Dean giving him an 'ok' sign and continuing the hunt solo. Bobby retraced Dean's clear steps, finding Sam soon enough as they waited for Dean to come back. A few more minutes pass and a twig snapped to their right. Bobby's head whipped around and he aimed his rifle in that direction. Too far into the woods to see anything. Waiting.

    Suddenly a great mass leaped towards the sound and a low growl was heard before a piercing animal scream that abruptly ended in a crunching snap. The mass of trees and foliage twitched a little and Sam gave Bobby a slightly disgusted look to which Bobby grimaced in return. Dean lifted his head, flapping one wing quickly so that they could see him through the woods. Dean's camouflage was incredibly good at it's job in this habitat. Just as the others were about to join him he put his huge clawed finger to his mouth and looked like he was shushing them.

    “What?” Sam whispered.

    Dean hunched down again and kept on walking away from the two. He whispered, “Oh, there's more.” Sam realized. “Good.”

    “Wont need to feed the boy again so soon. Might last him till we get to the cabin.”

    Their conversation was interrupted as a low growl emanated from not far enough away. That was not one of Dean's. They hunched down a little, aiming the rifle and Sam his handgun towards the second growling predator.

    Dean couldn’t lower himself any further. His mouth watering already. The dead deer was out of his opponent's reach, and he soon figured that the reason the deer was easy to catch, was that it was actually escaping something else. It was clumsy and distracted.

    Dean growled in return. The thing moved through the brush easier then him, able to move between the trees while Dean had to either knock them down or find a wide enough path. Shit. It had the upper hand if he wasn't careful where he walked. He moved to a space between where he thought it was and his family. No way in hell would he let anything happen to them. On the way over though, he smelled out an unfamiliar scent. Animal, fresher flesh then an adult. More pure. Something very young. The trace of milk close to it. Something not yet weaned. He sought it out, an easy meal would be awesome as he was starving. The growl came from his right as he moved left. Suddenly it was on his neck, biting, growling, clawing. Viciously tearing into his scales and ripping several out. He snapped his neck up and to the side over it and the heavy beast fell off and landed on its back in front of him. He whirled overtop of it, pissed that it got the jump on him. He placed a clawed paw on its chest but it bit and clawed right back. Frantic. He dipped his fanged mouth down and opened it wide, roaring at the squalling female bear. Not nearly as big as a grizzly, but black bears can be dangerous too. He could smell the milk scent from her and the same scent from the spot he was headed towards. It cried out and struggled under his wide hand, rabbit kicking his wrist. He brought over his other hand to pin down its free arm. It grunted in pain under him, but still growled and spit at him. He let go with his hand and bit down on her arm. Crunching the bones underneath the fur and let it go completely to get a better grip, aiming for her neck with his teeth instead of hands.

    The female black bear wailed in pain, and struggled on three of its remaining legs towards the thicket. Dean quirked an eyebrow at it, watching it give up the attack in favor of going around him and guarding some scrub. Dean easily shoved the annoying bear meal aside, pushing her back to the ground, and stuck his nose into the thicket. He ripped up some of the plants that were hiding whatever was in there, spitting it off to the side and looked again. Two baby cubs were huddled together. Males. He sniffed at them and they started calling and crying for their mother. She was biting at his fingers, scrabbling at the dirt and plants all around, a cloud of debris forming around her. Trying desperately to get to her young.

    Dean backed up a step. Then two. The second he let go of the bear she growled at him, lunging and limping towards her babies. Dean lost all fight in him. He wilted at the sight of the mother guarding her baby cubs. Still crying and trying to get underneath their fierce mother. Not scared at all of her display, knowing that their lives and safety lies solely with her.

    Dean's legs gave out and he sat there. He stared at them. The mother growling and whimpering at her broken arm, the babies and the hopelessness of being caught by something she'd never seen before and had no chance of beating. But she would not go down without a fight. He children were depending on her.

    Dean closed his jaws. A grim line formed on his lips and he turned to leave. The mother growled again, ending up choking, he turned to look, worried, but she just laid down to block her babies from view. With two of them she couldn’t gather them both up in her mouth to escape, not wanting to save just one and not the other. She had to make a stand right there.

    His heart juddered. Every part of him from old life was cheering his decision to let her and the babies live. His stomach growled, uninformed about his decision and he hated himself for it. He needs to eat. He can't live on plants, just meat. But. He refuses to make a snack out of that family. It's not right. A mother and two sons. She was ready to give her life for them. Dean walked with heavy footsteps back to the others. He felt incredibly guilty for biting her. He couldn't make it better. He didn't have any means to help. Even if he did have supplies, he doesn't know how to fix that bear's broken arm. He brought over his own bandaged broken wing and studied it. It was familiar and foreign to him, Sammy called the wrappings a splint. A clean break in the bone that would heal. His mind replayed her arm in his teeth. There was more then one crunch. He was seconds from snapping her neck to end her suffering.

    Dean wanted to throw up. What had he done? He kills and kills and kills. It seemed so natural before. What changed? He found himself a dozen feet away from the deer and sat down away from it. Staring at its carcass. Sam and Bobby came up to his left and approached slowly once they saw the expression on his face.

    “Are you hurt?” Sam asked, rubbing his hand along Dean's forearm. He looked down and saw the blood and then turned his neck so that Sam could see the wounds that the bear inflicted. “Shit! What happened?”

    'bear'. he signed. Then frowned deeply.

    “I would have bet a bear would be no problem for you.”

    Dean shrugged. 'mom bear'.

    After a beat of silence, Sam gave a look to Bobby. Dean missed it entirely, still staring at the deer. Almost reluctantly, he went over and opened up his mouth around the deer's body, lifting it easily into the air and started to walk slowly back down the path they took into the woods. Dean stopped at a clearing of trees, looking up and around everywhere.

    “Whats up? Why'd you stop?”

    Dean dropped the deer down without saying or signing a word and started to collect some dried tree branches and brought them over to the deer. Laying around it in a circle. Sam and Bobby picked up the hint and started to collect the smaller branches, limbs, and dry tinder, and went about making a fire. Sam was about to use his lighter but Dean just huffed at him and spat out a small flame to the tinder, Sam fanned it and a moderate fire started.

    “So, I guess you're still mostly out of flames?”

    Dean shrugged again.

    “Talk to us.” Sam asked, walking around to Dean's front to look him in the eyes. All his brother had to do was aim his head upwards but he didn't, he lowered it down to Sam's level.

    The pleading look in the dragon's eyes shut Sam up, Dean wasn't in the mood. Something happened out there and Sam could guess what it was. A mother bear protecting its cubs. All too familiar with their past. He wondered how much Dean remembered of their own mother.

    “I get it.” Sam said quietly. “You don't have to talk if you don't want to.” he rubbed Dean's neck and pat his shoulder.

    Dean wanted to lean into it but that would mean Sam falling over from the weight. He gave a quick grin and laid down next to the bonfire. He saw Bobby standing off to the side, just watching the fire and Dean noticed that it was already pretty dark outside. He hadn't noticed when the sun was setting. He must have slept all day.

    “Looks like a good spot for a campout under the stars.” Bobby remarked, just to keep back the silence. “Wish I had a lawnchair.”

    “mmm.” Sam agreed. He walked over to Dean and kicked at his tail until Dean huffed a quick laugh and finally brought it around, circling the fire so that Bobby could have a seat. Sam was about to sit too but Dean just brought a wing over and shoved him in between his front hands. Sam chuckled and righted himself, sitting on one of Dean's forearms again. Holding out his hands to the fire to keep them warm.

    Dean wished he was warmblooded so that he could just keep the others warm, but, they had to settle for the fire. Dean decided to keep it lit all night, even if it meant expending more of his own reserves. The vehicles were only a mile and a half away but none of them had any desire to sleep in them if they had a choice. Not with a view like this over their heads. Sam leaned back and looked at the stars. Dean looked up too, wondering if Sam saw a helicopter or something.

    “That's Cassiopeia. And that of course is the Big Dipper.” Sam pointed out, Dean made a sound of sudden recognition. It had been ages since he and Sam stargazed. When they were kids, Sam would learn all of the constellations and teach them to Dean who listened intently. Proud of his little brother. “Oh! Look! Dean you’re up there!”

    Dean cocked his head and looked to where Sam was pointing, he squinted and when he tilted his head to the other side the star configuration suddenly came to focus. He made a pleased humming sound and signed, 'draco'.

    Bobby laughed and stood up for a minute, finding a fire poking stick and sat back down, he played with the nearest log with it and enjoyed listening to the brothers identify more stars and constellations. The smell of nicely cooked venison made all three of their mouths water. Dean nosed at it for a second. Sam still got jumpy and anxious whenever Dean would just stick his freakin' face into flames. No matter what the reason.

    Dean bit down on the hind leg and pulled the medium well deer from the fire. He blew on it to cool it off a little, Bobby feeling the warmth rush past him. Impressed with the set of lungs on his older surrogate son. Dean grinned at Bobby then Sam and nosed the deer closer to them. 'eat'.

    “Don't have to tell me twice.” Bobby chuckled and got out a pocket knife. He cut out a decent portion of meat for himself and Sam and Dean gratefully ate the rest. He tried not to be too messy, but he was still acting like a couch for the others so he could only use one hand and that side's wing thumb for leverage. Extra appendages rock.

    After he was done with most of the meat he decided to leave the rest to the wildlife in the area. He could feasibly chew the bones up and eat the delicious and nutrient rich marrow, but he was pretty sure that the sound of bone crunching wasn't really appreciated by the bipeds. They seemed to always be jumpy around him whenever he accidentally reminds them how strong he is, or dangerous. Even though he would die before letting them get hurt.

    Sam and Bobby stood up for a minute at Dean's insistence and he stood too, grabbing the remains of the deer in his mouth and dragging it far into the brush, in the general direction of the bear family. Maybe they would find it and get a free meal? He hoped so. He did kinda steal this deer from them in the first place. He didn't know it at the time of course. A deer is a deer. Just meat. He came back and found the others gathering more wood for the fire and stoking it back up to a roaring blaze. Luckily, there was plenty of old dry wood in the area so it was pretty easy to get one going.

    “Your turn to warm up.” Sam announced and gestured to the fire.

    Dean smirked and walked up to the fire and kept on walking until his belly was directly over top and he laid down, sighing blissfully as if he were sinking into a nice hot bathtub. He fanned the flames with his wings, soaking up all the wonderful warmth. His neck hurt a little, as well as his arm, and he wondered why for a brief moment before remembering that that was where the mother bear had torn out numerous scales. He frowned and angled that part of his neck away from the flames and lifting that hand from over the hottest part of the bonfire. Sam noticed, but felt no need to comment on it. He and Bobby kept on gathering wood reserves for the middle of the night. Sam checked his watch. Midnight.

    “Bobby, since we're staying here, lets get some long grasses for a bed base. I brought Dean's duffel out here, used it like a seat when I was riding him like we're Hiccup and Toothless, I'm pretty sure he wont mind us using any of his cloths.” Sam looked over and said louder, “You don't mind if we steal some of your clothes do you?”

    'yes I do' he signed back.

    “I saw 'yes', you saw 'yes' too right, Bobby?”

    “That's what I saw.” he nodded affirmation.

    Dean rolled his eyes and let the heavy lids close, damn this fire was _so freakin_ _nice._ After another 20 minutes or so, the beds were made, Dean's old 4 long sleeved flannel shirts being used as blankets and his black t-shirts like pillows overtop two pairs of rolled jeans. They ignored the undershorts and socks of course and Dean had to stifle a laugh at that.

    Sam bed down and was caught off guard at having Dean's scent all over the makeshift pillow. Leather, gunpowder, an earthy scent and that aftershave he uses. _Used_ . Sam closed his eyes tight, and tried not to make it too obvious, but took another long sniff of it. Memories flooding his brain of all the times he spent with him hunting monsters, sharing hotel rooms and being stuck in a car for all the other parts of the day. He missed his brother so badly. He wanted him back to the way he was. That thing, that isn't _him_ . At least not all him. When Dean was born as a dragon it was like he was sharing the body of it instead of just having what makes Dean _Dean_ , in that body. Dean was growing up all over again but with the base instincts of a monster. Not a dangerous one to _them_ but a monster nonetheless. He had to bring his Dean back. He screwed up in the first place, not helping his older brother kill that mother before the eggs. Sam's thoughts drift as he starts to fall asleep. Half made plans to get Dean back, but also 'what if' scenarios that could have happened where he'd still have his human brother with him.

    Dean must have ESP because he took that moment to get off of the bonfire, pushing the logs back onto the main bulk of it and went over to the two bipeds. He gingerly settled down next to Sam, laying down along side him and spread his wing over the two men. They both looked up and saw the uninjured wing just half a foot over their beds, and felt the warmth that radiated from it. Dean hummed happily and curled his head and tail around in a loose circle around both of the bipeds. If anything wanted to get to them, they'd literally have to go through Dean first.

    Sam raised his hand and pat the leading edge of Dean's upper wing forearm. Somewhere outside of the wing canopy, Dean gave a quick chirp and Sam grinned as he fell asleep, feeling warm and safe.

 

 

Some scenes I drew from chapter 3. I haven't used colored pencils in ages so I'm sorry the colors are a bit off.  
Toddler Dean is mournful to see his brother so heartbroken at the memory of Jess, and the other one is him lounging in front of Bobby's couch, inviting Sam to sit with him on the pillows on the floor while they listen to some soft rock.

 

 

 

(This is why it took me so long to upload chapter 6! I want to do more pictures so the next chapters might be about a week apart. I don't know! I'll try to get them all out asap, but I don't want to just spit out random junk text. It has to be good!

Thanks for liking my stuff :) I truly do appreciate you all!)


	7. When the still smoking shit hits the fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes off for a quick midnight hunt and comes back to an empty campsite.  
> Things go downhill quick fast and in a hurry!  
> More art! but for the previous chapter, didn't want to spoil this one.

Had some trouble just as I was finishing up the drawing. The ink on Sam's face was still wet and smudged all over so I went into my computers 'paint' program (don't have photoshop, I poor. ) and fixed it up a bit. I also had to adjust how tall Sam was in relation to Dean because before Sam was just too big, here is the good version. I can't do humans all that well, unless I have a photo to work from. Even then... so yeah, here's a picture :)

 

 

* * *

 

 

Chapter Seven:

When the still smoking shit hits the fan

 

 

   The night seemed to drag on forever for Dean. The hunters still fast asleep under his left, unbroken wing. It was getting colder out again as he lifted his head to look back at the fire. It was dying down faster then he planned. He carefully and quietly lifted his wing and folded it back in and stood up away from Sam so as not to jostle him awake. He practically tip toed away since every step would shake the ground. His family looked so small, fragile, laying there. Completely dependent on him for protection out here in the sticks. He hadn’t heard so much as a peep from the bear family, hopefully they were alright.

   He went to the farther edge of the camp site and quietly lifted up more dead wood and added it to the flames. Supplying his own fire accelerator to hurry up the process on the nearest side of the hunters. After 10 more minutes or so, the fire was now big and bright enough that it should keep them warm. He laid down on the opposite side for a few minutes. Hovering his uninjured left wing over the flames, high enough so that it wouldn’t smother or hinder it. The now warmed blood cycled and flowed from the wing to the rest of him, warming him from the inside out. Once he was nice and warm, his stomach growled again. Of course. One deer yesterday wasn’t near enough to satisfy his appetite. He knew that once they got on the road again, there was no guarantee that they'd be able to even find woods big enough for him to hunt again. He sighed heavily. Debating. The fire should keep any predators away from the two. And they were both armed, well trained. They probably wouldn’t even notice him missing.

   Just a quick hunt. Deer were heard all around as he dozed next to Sam and Bobby. Maybe they weren’t scared of the fire and didn't know that dragons were at the top of the food chain. Makes sense. His scent wouldn’t be in their brains' category of 'predator'. Just bears, coyotes, wolves and cougars in this area. Maybe the occasional dog pack turned feral. He hadn’t smelled anything besides deer and that bear since coming into this wood, so maybe the other pred's weren’t around. And that's why there were so many freakin' deer. Overpopulated. Well, he'll just have to help with that.

   A hungry grin spread on his lips and he turned his head away from Sam and Bobby. He got up, stretched, and was about to slink off when he remembered a thin thread of training from past life. He took a clawed finger and made an arrow in the direction he planned to go in the dirt and ash, where the most noises were heard. He then marked a tree with three of his claws low enough for them to see. He took one last look around towards his family, before heading back down the deer trail, picking up the delicious scents almost immediately. He liked hunting with his family, but _this_. This felt better. More natural. He wasn't a pack animal, like old him was. Old him needed other people, and, when he was young, he did too. But, with the woods peace and calm, the blood pumping down long legs eating up the ground, the heavy scent of pine and potential meat in the air. The saliva inducing musk that some animal was giving off, probably a mating scent. It thrilled him. Mating animals don't care about their surroundings. Too blinded by the possibility of sex to realize that death was right behind them.

   His feelings and thoughts were pushed aside as he came across a fresh trail. 'Holy crap. That’s a whole herd! Oh my godohmygodohmygod I'm gonna be _stuffed_!' he thought dizzily. He circled around and made sure that none of them could escape. There was a natural outcropping of rocks that would slow down their leaping and running and he went around to drive them towards it. The ones he couldn’t kill right away, of course. Maybe his family could stay here for another day. The others deserve a nice break too, right? Maybe even pack up some of these delicious morsels in the trailer for later. Keep them alive to last longer, just break a leg so that they can't escape or move around. Perfect!

   He crouched down low, watching the animals sleep, some still standing and eating but obviously too complacent in their relatively peaceful lands to suspect that something was amiss. He crept forward slowly, his nerves and muscles jumping. This hunt is actually worthy of him. All the others, too easy. This challenge would be to kill as many as possible, injure the rest, and eat his fill, all before sunrise. Speaking of, it must be starting to come up soon because the night isn't so pitch black. No bother. Just means that he could have breakfast ready for his family by the time they wake up.

   He lowered himself to the ground, tail twitching at the end. Scenting the air again and almost moaning with pleasure, surprised that he hadn't been detected yet. Downwind of his dinner. So close to a filling meal. Then, all hell broke loose. One of them lifted up its head in the right direction, chewing on a weed and its ears swiveled towards him. He sucked in a breath, but being that it was a breath that _huge_ , wasn't missed.

   It let out a brief shriek and bounded off away from him. Alerting and waking the others in a mass of confusing hooves and movement. He shot up, position made, and chased down the largest of the deer. Easily snapping their necks so they felt no pain. He ignored the smaller ones, too much work and too many to keep track. He wanted the _big boys_. He leaped over several does, accidentally snapping legs as they bolted right instead of the expected left. He huffed angrily, whirling around and snapping their necks to end their suffering. That meant that most of the herd was able to escape. The smaller ones cried out for parents, running for any adult around. They all spread out like a sunburst from their clearing. He panted, and surveyed his surroundings. Well, 4 out of 20 ain’t bad. He could chase down more but this was enough. He still felt rejuvenated. Senses singing. The hunt was a success, even though most of them got away. This was enough to satisfy for at least the day and into the next. He heard several young ones in the thicket. He decided to let them go. There was no need to keep on killing. He just needs to eat, not kill these little things, not even a mouthful. Hell, they're so small he doubted that Sam and Bobby would be satisfied with the meat. He motioned at them for them to run but they stayed as still as stones. Frozen in place. He rolled his eyes at them and strut over to his breakfast. He slung one up onto his back, opening up his wings a little to make a platform and then on went the next two. He picked up the fourth and found no more room on his back, so he just carried it in his mouth back the way he came. He followed his own trail and tree markings till he got to the campsite. The others nowhere to be seen. He dropped off the deer in his mouth into the still burning fire and then sat down to let the others tumble off his back next to it.

   He panted a little. Lifting so much weight and the hunt wore him out. He gazed around, wondering where they went off to. He chirruped into the woods, hoping not to scare them, like if he roared. His side fans spread, hoping to catch any sound, movement, a return call. Nothing.

   He huffed. Maybe they were just on a bathroom break. No point hunting them down, just to embarrass them. He reluctantly got back to his feet, gathered more wood and stoked the fire so that the first deer would cook faster. His stomach growled again and he growled back, 'It's coming, it's coming!'

   After another 20 minutes he started to get worried. Still no sign of Sam or Bobby. Something's wrong. Even doing what Sam called, 'number two' didn't last this long. He got up, walking over to the sleeping area and took a long sniff. Just his old biped scent, Sam's and Bobby's. He snuffled around all over the beds, around them, and around the tree lining the area. Their scents were everywhere but that’s not surprising, they had collected wood for the fire from all around. He tried thinking back to how far into the area they searched. Not very, there was plenty of dry wood within reach. He sighed heavily and started to spiral out from the campsite, keeping it to his right as he made wider and wider circles. He picked up on a trail. But, he realized it was the same one they took getting into the clearing. Since he didn’t find a different one he went back to it and followed it for a minute. The scents were stronger now. So, not from just last night. He heard a buzzing in the air and looked up. There was this strange metal thing in the air, hovering like a helicopter but much much smaller. It was about two feet wide, roughly square shaped, and 30 feet high. If he jumped he could probably reach it with his teeth. It seemed to realize this and hovered higher. A red light started to blink on it. What the hell is it? Four fans, one on each corner whirred constantly as it hovered nearly over top of him. A bright flash of light hit him and he snarled at it. Another flash. And another. He suddenly jolted to the fact that those flashes meant camera. It was taking pictures of him! Shit! Sam had warned him not to be seen by anyone other then him or Bobby. He jumped up, snapping his jaws 5 feet shy of the thing as it kept on taking pictures.

   He roared at it and a part of him wondered if they would think that the inside of his mouth was an awesome view for that next series of pictures. He tried to climb the trees around but it shot out to a place 20 feet along the path. He followed after it. Leaping to catch up and try and bring it down. He stopped, remembering that his family needed him more then he needed to be unseen and turned back to search for their trail again. The thing followed after him and he just managed a low threatening growl at it. It stopped taking photographs but the light on the underside just blinked merrily away. Following him home like a puppy.

   He reached the campsite again, loosing the trail when he went after the metal hovering thing and found his deer ready to eat. His mouth salivated. He looked around. Still no sight of his brother or dadfriend but he couldn’t go on much longer on a completely empty stomach. He pulled the deer off of the fire, put the next one on and ate the first as fast as possible. Only a minute later it was gone, leaving behind its thin, mostly skin and bone legs, skull and last but certainly not least, both antlers as that would have been a _bitch_ to poop out. The other interior bones crunched easily and he debated whether or not to bother cooking the other deer. He was still hungry and it looked like it might take a hot minute to find his wayward family. He absently noted that the metal flying thing was gone again. Good. Now he could eat in peace.

   Mind made up, he took off the heads and thinner part of the legs of the other uncooked deer, eating them raw because he didn't want to wait that long for them to cook, and left the last one on the fire. His family deserved a fresh cooked breakfast. He was about to walk away when he heard a branch snap. It came from the path he took into the woods to hunt the deer.

   “Dean!”

   His eyes went wide and he happily bound up to his brother. Sam ran up to him as well, checking him over for wounds and finding none.

   “Dean! Are you alright? Are you hurt? We've been looking everywhere for you! Where the hell did you go?”

   Dean just grinned at his brother, nuzzling Sam's chest and enjoyed being petted. He lifted up a hand and signed, 'where dad?'

   “What?” Sam stopped short, hands falling slowly, a confused and a little sad expression creeping onto his face. Surely his brother remembered what happened to their father years ago.

   'dad where?' Dean asked differently, sometimes English was hard to get used to. Switch the words around and the meaning changes apparently.

   “Oh, uhh Dean, I thought you knew. Dad's uh, dad's dead.”

   A surprised cry escaped him, he lifted his head, looking frantically all around. He leaped to the side of Sam and pushed his way through the thicket to where Sam's scent came from just now.

   “Dean! What are you doing? Where the hell are you going?” Sam had to run to keep up.

   Dean's panicked cry and whimpering was enough answer for Sam. He almost wanted to laugh but the distress in his brother was powerful. “Dean! Wait up, it's ok. Bobby's not dead. He's alright.”

   Dean stopped short, panting, wide eyed. He turned his head back to Sam, pleading for answers in his eyes. 'dad ok?' he signed hastily, sloppily, Sam just barely caught it.

   “Bobby's not your dad... he's a friend.” Sam had his hands up for Dean to calm down and stop moving.

   Dean licked his lips, panting still and looking all around him. Heart hammering in his chest. He looked more firmly at Sam, making an insistent sound as he signed, 'dad ok?' the _'answer the question, Sam_ ' was loud and clear.

   “You think he's your dad?”

   Dean bobbled his head. And then nodded. He remembered saying in old life, “ _Bobby, you're the closest thing I have to a father._ ” and he wished like hell he could tell Sam that.

   Halfway through signing the five letters yet again Sam held up his hand, finally answering, “Bobby's fine.”

   Dean took a breath and was about to sign more but Sam cut in, “He went looking for you a little further down. He texted me saying several deer ran past his search area. He knew where you must be and followed them back to that clearing. He found a spot where a herd of deer had bed down and then stampeded away but you were gone. I told him I’d go back to the campsite to see if you returned, and here you are. Now gimme a second to text him that I found you and to stop looking. Ok? He should be here in a minute.”

   Dean nodded, mind whirling. He was glad they were safe and soon to be reunited. He suddenly remembered the metal thing and tried to search his limited vocabulary for how to tell Sam what he saw. He waited until Sam finished with the phone and put it back in his breast pocket.

   Dean signed, 'thing air up' and frowned. He shook his head and looked up, pointing. Then looked back to Sam and signed, 'thing'.

   “You saw something?”

   Dean nodded and pointed up again into the air over their heads. Sam looked up and saw nothing.

   “What was it?”

   Dean shrugged his wings. He looked to the ground for some way of drawing it. Maybe Sam's wide knowledge of all things biped could tell him what it was. He pulled some ashes from the bonfire over and made a flat area on the dirt with it. Looking at the deer still on the fire he motioned to it and signed, 'eat' while grinning.

   “Did you get enough to eat.”

   Dean nodded greatly, rubbing a clawed hand along his belly and sighing contentedly. Sam busted out laughing. Some things you just don't expect to see a dragon do.

   Dean put claw to ash and drew a square and a circle at each corner out from the square. He then twirled his claw around and around in a spiral inside the circles and looked pointedly to Sam. The motion was hard to convey in a drawing. He sighed at Sam's puzzled expression. Dean dipped his head to Sam's chest and stuck his tongue out.

   Sam recoiled, shoving Dean's nose away. “No! No more licking. It's gross and it doesn’t come out as easily as you think.”

   Dean insisted and stuck his tongue out again. It was either this or use his big clawed hand and he was sure that his hand would not be any better. Sam was just too small and fragile to fool around with his claws. He brought his hand up behind Sam, holding him in place as Sam tried to squirm away from the opened dragon's mouth. He flinched and shut his eyes tight when he suddenly felt a pressure at his chest. Specifically his pocket. He peeked a glance down and saw Dean's brow furrowed and tongue in his pocket, wiggling it around like an eel. “Oh my god, _Dean!_ That is gross, and creepy as shit and just let go of me!”

   Dean huffed and finally grabbed a hold of the cell phone between the two ends of his forked tongue. He pulled it out and let go of Sam so he could send his bitchface at him from a distance. Whatever. He went back to the drawing and gently placed the cell phone in the center of the square. Some ash stuck to his tongue as he set it down and he spit it out at the fire. A small spark puffed out and he chuckled. Sometimes he would honestly forget he has flammable spit. He looked to Sam again and spun his claw in a circle inside the circles again. Huffing at him.

   “Huff and puff all you want, but do not break my phone.” Sam crossed his arms, “If you cracked the face I will end you. Turn you into a nice pair of boots and matching luggage set. Or sell you off to a circus.”

   Dean growled at him. He pointedly looked to the drawing. He stopped his clawed finger and stomped on the ground next to it. Sam felt the vibrations. Both brothers turned to see Bobby coming out of the woods behind Dean. Dean forgot all about the drawing and bound up to Bobby. No small feat for something that huge and checked him over thoroughly.

   “Good to see you too, Boy. You alright? How was breakfast?”

   Dean sniffed Bobby head to toe, checking him out and found a different scent in his pocket. It tingled his nose and made him want to sneeze. A familiar scent. A _hated_ one. Dean snarled a little, nosing Bobby's pocket with a little force, and Bobby cursed under his breath.

   “ _Balls_. Dean, look, I can explain.” he said, pulling out the handgun with the special herb bullets.

   Sam saw what was going on and he stopped cold. Shit. How do you explain the fact that they brought a gun that had bullets that are specifically designed to only take down Dean.

   Sam leaped to Bobby's rescue, “Dean. You asshole! You were told not to run off and you did. What did we tell you before at Bobby's? Huh? That you're stuck with us. And if we had to drug you to keep you, we would. What the hell were we supposed to think when we wake up and you're GONE? Disappeared! You deserted us! We were worried _sick_!”

   Dean's thoughts stumbled. His mouth opened and shut a few times. He took a few steps away, walking over to the tree and pointed at the marks he left. He signed, 'here'. But that was unnecessary, they could see the mark plain as day now that they were looking for it. They just didn't think he would be smart enough to leave a trail like normal hunters. But they should have realized that Dean would know that trick, being that he was the one that showed Sam Bobby's marks just the night before.

   “Oh.” Sam said, walking over and tracing the claw marks on the wood. He honestly didn't see that. “Well I feel stupid.”

   Dean agreed and Sam shot him a dirty look. Dean waved a dismissive hand at them. All forgiven. They were justified in bringing the herb gun because, to them, he did take off unexpectedly.

   “Dean? Did you draw this?” Bobby said from the bonfire area.

   Dean looked easily over Sam's head, nodding and pointing up with his finger.

   “Sam. We got problems.”

   “Yeah, I was meaning to ask, what the hell is that supposed to be?” Sam went over and picked up his phone, wiping off the dragon spit. Hoping that his phone wasn't flammable now.

   “That's a drone. Dean saw a recon drone flying overhead. We gotta get out of here _right now_.” Bobby said, jogging over to their bags and loading up quickly. Sam stuffed Dean's cloths back into the bag and found the rope.

   Dean caught on and laid down for Sam to re-tie the rope around his neck and arms. The fastest way out of the woods is to give them a ride. He leaned over while Sam worked on getting everything situated for two men instead of just himself. Dean clamped down on the last deer from the fire, not nearly cooked enough but hey, he wasn’t about to leave a free meal for scavengers. Sam was about to tell him to leave it but Bobby was already coming over and looking up with worried eyes to the sky.

   “Do you think they found him?” Sam asked.

   “No doubt. Those things are too good. They probably got his picture, our GPS location, and now it's likely somewhere up there, waiting for us to move. But we can't exactly stay here.” Bobby shrugged on his own bag.

   “No, you need the bag to sit on. Dean is bumpy as all hell on his back. Trust me. You'll need the cushion.” Sam said, taking the bag from Bobby and throwing it up onto Dean's back. Dean urged them to move faster. Sam got settled on up front, and let down a hand for Bobby.

   Bobby hesitated, looking at the sheer height. Dean laying down was still 5 feet tall at the shoulder. Dean dropped a wing and turned it into a ramp. Bobby put one foot on his wing wrist and was lifted instantly to the shoulder and back. Flung up there like Dean was lifting a backpack. Sam helped catch Bobby before he fell off the other side and he flopped down to a sit behind Sam. Dean lifted both wings up a little, forming a kind of canoe shape and stood up. His wing elbow and wrists holding the men's legs in place.

   “We will not talk about this ever, you hear me, Sam?”

   “Sure, Bobby.” Sam wanted to chuckle as Bobby wrapped his arms around his stomach.

   Dean looked behind him with one eye and gave a warning growl that he was going to start moving now.

   “Well, what are you waiting for? Go!” Sam urged and Dean _went._ Sam tried very very hard to keep quiet and calm but holy hell this did not get any easier the second time around.

   Dean was _not_ fucking about. He bolted through the trees, narrowly missing them as he ran flat out, as fast as he could towards the back road the Impala and semi were on. Saplings and shrubs didn't stand a chance against a ton of moving muscle. The bipeds were as secure as he could make them with his wings. They angled up a little higher, so that only their heads could be seen from above. Sam ducked down anyway, Bobby risking a look around. They were slammed into Dean's back every leap he made and Dean seemed to understand that that might be very uncomfortable so he stuck with the regular run. The ride smoothed out a fraction and Bobby could finally get his gun ready to fire if need be.

   And the need arose. Overhead Bobby caught sight of the drone as it hovered overhead, lagging behind but still following them. “Got comp'ny!” Bobby shouted in Sam's ear as the wind kept howling past them. Dean grunted and took one quick look overhead too. Now that he knows that that thing is dangerous, he wont let it live. Dean skidded to a halt, and sent the other ones practically kissing his neck. He took a look behind and saw that hey were ok, if a little rumpled. He shot a glare above as the drone flew on for a few dozen feet.

   Bobby realized that it was not able to stop as easily as Dean, or maybe missing them in the foliage. Dean's camouflage was pretty awesome and since he was cold blooded, his heat signature was next to nothing. “Dean, cover us up. Now!”

   Dean didn't question the order and hooked his wing thumbs together over top Sam and Bobby. Sam caught on and lifted his feet from view and stayed still and quiet. Dean was incredibly uncomfortable, his wings could be flush against each other along his back, but with two bipeds there, it hurt a little. He waited, breathing hard from the exertion.

   “Shit! He's still got that damned deer in his mouth!” Bobby cursed, “Dean! Drop it and run!”

   Dean whimpered a little. This was his lunch! He put it down. Looking at it and then made a quick decision. He bit off the head and ate it _whole_. It hurt like a _son of a BITCH!_

   Sam shuddered as he felt the massive lump pass by inside the neck in front of him. Letting go entirely and sitting back from it. It was far too large to have been swallowed in one gulp, so Dean had to angle his neck down, more level with his stomach all while covering up the hunters on his back from view. Groaning between swallows, Sam and Bobby had some sympathy pains. It would be like them dry swallowing a grapefruit.

   Dean panted after the bulk of it finally passed by his collarbone. His eyes unfocused. Ok. Never do that again. He straightened his neck a little, swallowing over and over just to ease some of the ache and then lifted his head again. He kicked some clumps of grass over the head and took a few steps forward again. Stumbling a little. He was so freakin' full now. His stomach protested the over filling. Four freakin' deer before noon. The 3 cow's before didn’t even come close. At least he didn't have to eat the the cows whole, or the bones. And Sam and Bobby helped with them.

   “You ok, Dean?” Sam finally got enough courage to pat Dean's neck. Trying very hard and failing to imagine being swallowed whole like that deer was. His body would be a cakewalk. Not to mention the fact that Dean would know firsthand what being swallowed by a dragon felt like. He had experience.

   “I told you to drop it.” Bobby admonished.

   Dean shrugged a little, bouncing the men into the air and he took some more steps forward. He found a pace again. Not as fast or eager as before, but at least they were moving with a purpose. The drone was missing from the sky. None of them expected it to be gone for good. That would be too easy.

   The road was only another 100 feet away when Dean stopped. He crouched low and the others took that as a cue to get off. They each shouldered a bag and Sam was going to cut the rope off of Dean again but he stood up, stalking forward towards the cattle trailer. He was hesitant. Something was up.

   Sam reached forward and patted Dean's tail, he turned back and looked at Sam who pointed and shrugged, Sam signed, 'someone there?'

   Dean signed back, 'yes', then shrugged. 'up thing is'.

   Sam gave Bobby a look and he returned it, they had to go on anyway. There was no way they were going to ditch their only rides. Dean wasn’t safe out in the open, even if he was capable of taking them all the way to Rufus's cabin. They couldn’t ditch the Impala either, it had all of their weapons still in the trunk.

   Bobby whispered, “Dean, stay here with Sam, I'll go check it out.”

   Dean frowned but obeyed. He lifted his wing over top Sam again, covering him from view. Sam marveled at how Dean was able to understand thermal imaging technology enough to know that even a thin layer of wing membrane could block out Sam's heat signature from view. So long as he didn’t warm up Dean's wing, they were invisible.

   Bobby aimed his rifle above. Not sighting the drone and then went to the trailer first. If they needed to ditch a vehicle, the Impala would have to be it. As much as it was treasured by all of them, it couldn't hide or haul Dean anywhere anymore. He opened up the cab for the trailer, nothing seemed disturbed.

   A gun clicked behind him.

 

   Dean fidgeted. Something was wrong. Bobby should be back by now. He heard a scuffle from ahead and then a loud thump. He saw something fall out from the truck but it landed behind the Impala so he couldn’t see it clearly. He was already on his feet and moving before Sam could catch up to him.

   “Wait!” Sam hissed.

   Dean growled low and threatening in his throat. He stalked closer. Claws digging in the dirt and then gravel of the road. Two figures were up ahead. He noticed movement down the road and saw over a dozen more coming out of something. But he only had eyes for the two ahead. Spit and fire starter haze shot out of his mouth. He ignited some of it. Walking right through the flames. Snarling, roaring, threatening. His eyes blazed hatred so pure that all other action halted for a second. Even the forest seemed to gasp in shock.

   Dean leaped forward, ready to kill. That man was wearing Kevlar, and was equipped to the nines with weapons. He had Bobby by the throat. Gun to his head. Dean shot out more flame. Just enough to intimidate but not use up all of his meager stores.

   “Tell him to back off!” the guy shouted into Bobby's ear, shaking him a little. Bobby would have gladly taken one of the weapons on the guy but his hands were bound in front of him.

   “You try reasoning with a damned dragon!” Bobby shot back and got kicked in the leg for it.

   “Back off!” The man directed at Dean who kept on stalking forward. The man shot at him. The bullets ricocheted off of his forehead and he shook his head side to side. The 'FUCK NO' clear as day.

   “That don't work on him, Buddy. Better just back off and live another day.” Bobby hissed and tried to move out of the man's grip. He hit the back of Bobby's head with the butt of the gun and Dean lost it.

   Dean rushed forward, leaping over Bobby's body just as it slumped to the ground. The man was easily lifted into the air in Dean's mouth and viciously tossed aside. Dean stood over top of his dadfriend and roared bloody murder at the now visible encroaching team. They kept on coming. The drone suddenly appeared in front of him, buzzing by his head and distracting him. He bit at it, getting fed up with it and blew flames at it. It wobbled in the air, finally crashing to the ground but then there were people all around him. Someone stabbed him in the side. He howled in pain and rounded on the man, grabbing him up in his mouth and tossing him too, unable to do more as other knives and weapons were raining down on his body. He spun around, over top of Bobby and faced his brother again. Sam was holding his own against two of the men and Dean chirped at him.

   Sam shot a look over and saw what Dean was planning and dropped to the ground immediately as flames shot out overhead at his attackers. They ran, flailing and ripping clothing and gear off as fast as they were able as Sam ran towards Dean, firing off his rifle at the attackers. Dean suddenly just grabbed Sam up in his wide hand, shoving him bodily over Bobby and spun in a circle again. Tail and wings whipping everything around and knocking the bastards to the ground. Sam rolled, indignant that Dean treated him like he was a fragile egg, but gave up on it and quickly made sure that Bobby's prone form was safely underneath. That none of their hands or feet would be stepped on by accident as Dean spun around, shot flames, and bit at the others.

   Sam saw numerous trails of blood run down Dean's legs, flying off all around them onto the gravel.

   “Got it!” one of them shouted, pulling back a green and red tinted blade from Dean's side and running away.

   Then all at once, the men stopped attacking, and actually retreated. They ran back, forming a far enough barrier around the dragon and the two men underneath. Dean panted hard. Growl petering out and his distended belly sagged low. Sam looked overhead as Dean's legs wobbled a little. Belly and chest lowering steadily down with each exhale. Sam pulled Bobby off to the side as Dean couldn’t stand up anymore. He laid heavily onto his side, trying to stay somewhat upright but his head started to lower too. His eyes were focusing and unfocusing on Sam as he backed up to Dean's head, facing outwards with his handgun. Two bullets left. Bobby was still out cold 3 feet from Dean's body.

   Dean's wings dropped all the way, covering up Bobby and Sam's panic spiked even higher, “Dean! Dean talk to me, what happened? Get up!” he patted Dean's cheeks and the head got heavier and heavier in his hands. He had to let it lay down on the ground as it now weighed over a hundred pounds alone.

   “What the fuck did you do to him!?”

   The men were silent, many tending to wounds, holding their sides, wrapping up their partners. One man stepped forward. A smug smile on his face.

   “Mr. Azazel?” Sam breathed, shocked.

   “Hey-ya Sammy!” Azazel shouted, overly chippy. “I finally get a standoff! All these years and no monster had ever had human partners defending it! Wonderful!”

   “What the... what the hell are you doing here?”

   “Better question my boy is why did you call that thing, 'Dean'.” he looked behind Sam to the dragon pointedly and quirked an eyebrow.

   Sam lifted his gun at him.

   “Ah! So your brother _didn't_ die like you led us to believe. I was wondering why in the hell you would take care of the demon offspring of your brother's killer.” Azazel chuckled to himself as other men lifted their guns due to Sam's threat. “Might as well put that down Sammy boy because we already won. That thing is down for the count, Bobby has seen better days, and your gun can only hold 8 bullets and there are 20 of us.” he took another step closer, “The only, and I mean ONLY reason you're not dead now is because none of you actually killed any of us. Seems like there's some bit of humanity left in that monster's hide after all.”

   “He's not a monster!” Sam shouted, standing more firmly in front of Dean's head.

   “He will be when I'm done with him. You see, I don’t like my pets to have a mind of their own. If they think they're worth something then they are much harder to train. Just be glad we didn’t have to kill him to take him down. For the good of pure blooded humanity.” he took a few steps closer, ignoring the gun Sam had a death grip on. “Thank you for the herb idea by the way. Found it at Singer's house. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we? My partner, Nick, wanted to kill him for killing Dean. Wont he be surprised when I tell him the good news!”

   “You are not taking my brother!” Sam hissed.

   “Yes. We are. He is not your brother anymore. It's no different then if a vampire bit him and he turned, or transformed after a werewolf attack, nearly all of those monsters you yourself hunted had once been human. Just like him. He is not human anymore. Therefore; monster. And you can either die defending him, or live and take Bobby to a hospital. I'm sure that in his state he couldn't get to one by himself. Seems one of my men didn’t get the memo and used live ammunition on him instead of the nonlethals.” Azazel glared all around him to the circle of men and women. Trying to suss out the culprit.

   Sam tried to process all that’s happening around him. Bobby was shot but at a glance he couldn’t tell where. There’s so much blood spattered all around he couldn’t tell what's from Dean or Bobby. He looked back to Dean and saw several of the men closer then they were. He aimed his gun at them and they backed up to their old positions. Sneering at him.

   He faced the hunter Azazel again. He didn't stand a chance in hell right now. Bobby was probably bleeding out and Dean will too if his wounds don’t get patched up. No way in hell could he get them out of there by himself even if the three were alone on the road.

   Azazel lifted his hands like a truce. “I promise you. I wont kill him. I will also throw in yours and Bobby's life as well.” he addressed the crowd, “No one is to harm any of them. Understand?”

   He didn't get a unanimous answer but the general opinion of them agreed. Sam shot looks all around and most of them lowered their guns.

   “See? No harm. Well, no _more_ harm. All I want is the dragon. He will be safe with me. I swear it. Now I know he was human once, and a far as I can tell, he's never killed a human before, so he will not be killed and stuffed like Nick insisted. My other pets are so loyal, happy in my care. He will be too. He will never go hungry or be ill, or want for anything. Can you offer better?”

   “Yeah. I can give him his old life back! All you want is a _pet_. He is not yours!” Sam shouted, pissed.

   “He is. I don't know why you can't see that.” Azazel sighed. “And as for giving him his humanity back? How?”

   “Bobby and I are close to a cure. It's in a book back at his place. A spell that requires the right ingredients at the right time. We were going to try it on the next equinox, which is in a few days, September 23rd, but you guys showed up and chased us from all our supplies and the spellbook. Now we don't have enough time to gather the rest of the ingredients and have to wait for the next equinox comes around, on March 20th. You bastards set us back _6 months_! Who knows what will happen to his mind in all that time?”

   Dean shifted his head a little, crunching some gravel under its weight. 'He's awake?' Sam's eyes went wide. “Dean? You ok? Still with me?” Sam muttered behind him. Dean's tail that was curled close gave a single halfhearted wag. “Don't move, Dude, you've been stabbed I don't know how many times. They drugged you.”

   Dean took a deep breath, letting it out heavily. Some more movement behind him had Sam turning. Dean was trying to move his feet under him.

   “Stop! Dean you have to stop! You're bleeding too much!”

   Azazel spoke up. “Listen to him Dean-o. If you want your brother to stay alive, you will do as I say.” he waved a gun and Dean    snarled a little. It ended with a watery hack. His head fell instantly, eyelids fluttering. “Good boy.”

   “I will fucking kill you, you fucking _Bastard_.” Sam growled.

   “Now now, words hurt.” he tisked walking closer, Sam lifted his gun to the other hunter's head. “Better make that count Sammy, 'cause when you’re out, you’re dead.”

   Sam debated for a second, take out Azazel and who else here? He was hopelessly outgunned. Dean shifted and groaned again, worry spiking down his soul.

   Azazel then continued his walk, not to Sam but Dean's head. “Dean Dean Dean, what have you gotten yourself into? The only way your brother and mentor are getting out of this alive is if you come with me. You can save them. All you have to do is give yourself up. You will be safe with me, I swear it. I will not harm them or you so long as you listen to my commands.”

   Dean growled in reply.

   “Oh! So you do want your family _dead_? So be it.” he lifted his hand and every one of the men and women there pointed their guns at Sam and Bobby.

   Dean's cry of surprise and dismay hurt his ears but Azazel stood firm. He lifted his head up a foot, shaking it vigorously side to side. He lost the strength to hold it up and it thumped the ground again. “nnoooo.” He whined, giving up.

   Sam's heart broke. He faced Dean and said, “No. You can't. We can keep going. Don't give up now! Just set these bastards on fire! _Fight_!”

   Dean's gaze landed on Sam, he lifted up his hand and signed with great difficulty, 'sorry'.

   “Don't be sorry, be _angry_!” Sam was pulled back by two men suddenly behind him. One disarmed him and the other put a knife to is heart.

   Dean shook his head fearfully, he looked up at Azazel standing over him and whimpered some more. Azazel smirked triumphantly.

   “Good news, Sam! Everyone gets to live!” Azazel announced and with another wave of his hand, Sam was taken to the Impala and Bobby was lifted up by three others and also taken to the back passenger side door. Both were forced inside and Sam immediately checked their hidden compartments for more firearms.

   “You really think we wouldn't have stripped the car before you got here?” Azazel tisked. “Don’t worry. We need all the hunters of monsters out there that we can get. Your stuff is not destroyed, just buried. I will mail you the coordinates after you and Bobby get back to his house.” He tossed a small phone at Sam.

   “What's this for?”

   “That will let me know when you get there. Take a video of you and Bobby saying the date and walking around the property with the cloths you have on your backs now. If you don't, _Dean_ will be punished, and you will never get your weapons and supplies back. I know how hard some of that must have been to acquire. Hunting monsters can really take a toll on a person. Finding the right weapon for the right beast. Years of searching, collecting. And even then,” he trailed off, looking towards Dean. “I'm just thrilled you helped figure out how to keep him sedated without hurting him. I mean, _dragons_. Am I right? Who even knew they still existed?”

   Sam didn’t have a witty comeback. All his attention was towards his brother. The men and women were now tying up his limp legs and a tow truck was being driven down the street to their location. They were prepared for them. A semi with a sign on the back saying 'oversized load' was following behind the tow truck.

   Dean's mouth was tied firmly shut and he didn't struggle at all. His eyes, when they were focused and fairly alert, were on Sam and Bobby in the Impala. Sometimes his gaze faltered and he looked in their general direction but Sam couldn’t help the feeling like Dean was saying goodbye with his eyes. The wings were bound after the feet and head, tied across his belly and underneath it. He whimpered a little when the broken wing bone was jostled against the bindings.

   “Be careful you assholes! He's got a broken wing!”

   Someone came close to punching Sam for speaking up but Azazel gave a noise to stop them, like berating a small child. The creepy yellow eyed hunter winked at Sam.

   Sam's voice faltered, sounding sad and pleading. He hated having to beg. “At least. I don't know. Let me come with you. I can watch him. Make sure he's alright.” Sam offered.

   “I’ll think about it.” Azazel promised. “Once we are on the road, you may take Singer to the hospital, get that gut shot taken care of professionally. All our talents lie in field dressing. He shouldn’t bleed out before then. As long as you hurry.” He leaned forward to Sam in the back seat, Bobby still slouched unconscious next to him behind the front passenger seat. “I am sorry he got shot. That was not our intention. He is a good hunter, a head of the community and I truly would hate to see him die.”

   Sam mumbled a thanks, detesting the fact that he was in this position. But, if he and Bobby were dead, who would go rescue Dean later? And he _will_ get his brother back. But they need a plan. Azazel left him there, going back to his prize catch and patting Dean on his forehead. Clearly admiring the state of the young dragon. Sam was grateful that at least Dean's wounds were finally being tended to now. Add to that the fact that he had a very full meal before this, he will probably be drugged out of his head until they get to wherever they're taking him. Too tired to move, let alone eat.

   After only 10 more minutes of tying Dean up, he was being dragged along the road the short distance to the semi's trailer. A tow line went through the whole trailer, out the front end of the container and towards the tow truck as it winched the limp dragon into the trailer by his forelegs. Several men carried his head between them, and spaced others along his neck, cradling it with ropes from one side to the other, so it wouldn’t be dragged on the rocks or metal of the trailer.

   Sam was allowed to get out of the car and witness how careful they were in putting Dean in the hold. It didn't ease the ache and pain in his heart. His brother was being taken away. If he didn't play ball, they would kill Dean and no one would be the wiser. After all, Bobby and Sam told the whole hunter community that Dean was already dead weeks ago. No one would go with him to rescue a huge terrifying monster. It would be insanity. They didn't have much proof that the dragon was really Dean. Just some pictures of a roaring monster on Sam's cell phone. Bobby had some of Dean's sleepy bear hug but that didn’t prove anything either. A dragon was seen 'suffocating' a human. All they could see in the pic was Sam's boots. He wasn’t in any danger, but that photo would do more damage then good. He searched his own memory for photo's or videos of Dean's humanity but came up with nothing. Mind shorting out because now they were tucking Dean's long tail into the trailer and shutting the doors.

   “Wait! At least, at least let me say goodbye!” He shouted, struggling to get past the men holding his arms.

   Azazel frowned a little, and said, “I guess. But make it quick.”

   Sam nodded and was escorted into the trailer through the human sized door. He went up to Dean's head, kneeling next to it. Eyes wet and hands trembling as he cupped the front end of Dean's head into his lap. Dean's eyes had a thin film on them, but slowly found Sam's forehead bowed to his nose. He huffed a little, ruffling Sam's shirt.

   “A little privacy please?” he asked without turning around. Voice chocking up.

   “One minute.” was the only answer he got, but felt the air in the room lighten.

   “Dean?” he croaked, throat tightening. He looked into one of Dean's eyes, too close to see both without turning his head. “Dean, I promise we will get you back. I promise. _I promise_. Okay?” his hands shook as he rubbed them along the bridge of the dragon's nose, ending at the space between his nostrils. Dean hummed, eyes rolling, and sleepily nudged into the hand a little bit more. Sam used his knuckles and rubbed harder, other hand on Dean's forehead, with a thumb opening up one eyelid. “Dean? Don't forget about us, Man. You are gonna be ok. All you have to do is wait for us. We will get you back. This is not your fault, none of it is. I know you. You're gonna be blaming yourself. _Don't_. Remember that. It's up to me to get you out of this. Do _not_ do anything to make them hurt you. I want you to fight by not fighting. Understand? But if you do see something helpful, an opportunity to get away, wait for the right moment, be smart about this. If you see a chance at escape, take it, but if you’re caught again, do not retaliate and set anything on fire. They will just kill you then. I can't live without you, Man. Just. Be safe. Ok? I will get you back. I prom-”

   Sam was cut short by the sound of the door opening again. He wiped off his eyes, and gave one last rub along Dean's nose. “Remember Poughkeepsie.”

   “Move it.” the man said gripping his arm painfully tight and whirling him around. Sam dropped something just inside the trailer before the door shut behind them. “What the hell does Poughkeepsie have to do with anything.”

   “It's where he he almost gave up on life. I found him before he could end it. He shouldn’t give up on life just because it gets a little rough. I hope he remembers Poughkeepsie. He has trouble remembering things.” He lied easily, hoping that some part of Dean would recognize the code. Poughkeepsie is their code word for 'drop everything and run'. So his last message is instructing Dean to run if possible and find his way home. Sam would never stop searching, but he and Bobby are just two people in the world that could ever see Dean as more then a monstrous beast. They're gonna need some help.

   As he was led away from the trailer, a smirk rose from his lips, immediately squashed down when he saw Bobby still in the Impala, unconscious. Damn. He's gonna have to get Bobby to do his tracking hoodoo the second they get to somewhere with wifi.

   Two of the men guarded Sam, Bobby, and the Impala so that the trailer and tow truck as well as other vehicles that brought everyone there, could drive off without being followed. They stayed for another 10 minutes next to their motorcycles, before getting ready to leave as well. The Impala was fast, but no car could beat a motorcycle. One of the two guards said sombrely, “Even though I don't like that thing. I am very sorry you lost your brother.”

   “Yeah, tough break, Winchester.” the other added. Sam couldn’t tell if it was sincere or not but the others left before he could even hope to coerce them onto his side. At least there were some people in Azazel's hunting party that had a sliver of soul in them.

   Sam stood there for another minute. His mind not yet willing to accept that his brother was gone. Bobby groaned in his sleep, jarring him from his downward spiral of thoughts.

   “I gotcha Bobby. Then, we will go get Dean back.” he stated a fact. The Impala roared into life, and almost sounded like she was upset that Dean wasn’t with them as well. The engine struggled up the gravel road and Sam said soothingly to the dashboard, “It's gonna be ok... uh, Baby.” he added Dean's nickname for the car. If he reminded himself of Dean every few minutes, it didn’t hurt as bad as coming to terms that his brother was not there beside him. The nearest hospital was the complete opposite way that those bastards took Dean. He'd swear they planned it but they were only at that spot because Sam and Bobby parked there yesterday. He had no one to blame but himself.

   Guilt crashed in on him in waves all the way towards the nearest town and beat incessantly as he neared the closest thing to a hospital the town had. They got admitted immediately and Bobby was at the front of the line for surgery. He had a strong will to live and would soon be on the mend. Sam waited outside of the room, listening and watching somewhat patiently as they worked on Bobby. He had been in enough hospitals before, watching Dean or even himself get patched up when neither of the brother's nor their father were able to do it, to know when the exact moment happened that the surgery was a success and he could finally breath again. He only half listened to the doctor telling him about the surgery, pain medications his 'father' would need to take, and how long recovery will be for a wound that serious. Sam nodded seriously for the doctor's benefit, knowing full well that this wasn't the first 'gut shot' that his family had received, and knew that the doctors orders were more or less for legal reasons. Two weeks tops and Bobby will be back to cursing him out and hefting shotguns. This would set them back, sure, but, they couldn't even try the spell for another 6 months. Azazel wants a pet, and so long as Dean behaves, his brother should be alright.

   Sam rubbed his face with both hands. How did this day get so fucked up? How can he make it any better then this? The dragon shit had hit the fan so completely there was only metal shards and still smoking excrement left over.

   He wanted to laugh at the mental image. He really did, but without Dean there to join in the playful teasing, it felt hollow.

   Sam 'borrowed' a laptop from one of the hospital rooms with a sleeping patient. Intending on returning it before the rightful owner wakes up. Those bastards broke Sam's laptop as well as Bobby's ancient relic that delusionally called itself a computer.

   He opened up a private search session on the computer so the owner wouldn’t easily be able to tell that anything was done to it at all. He then went to the hunters online network for news of the abduction. Nothing. Of course that wasn’t a surprise. Azazel wouldn’t want this broadcasting to all hunters because there would be no end of them wanting a piece of it. He also had to stop and think that it had just happened and it takes a few hours at least for news to spread. He helped it along. 'The hunter Azazel is an untrustworthy bastard. He attacked two other hunters today and trashed their property and shot Bobby Singer. To anyone dealing with Azazel, be warned! He will stab you in the back!' He typed in, trying not to sound like himself online. He rarely ever put any personal information out, only technicals for monsters he and Dean uncovered and shared with the community to help better prepare other hunters if they come across the same thing. Also, this way, if he see's it, Azazel might assume that someone working for him posted that. Nothing like some dissent and friendly fire in those particular ranks.

   He closed the window again, clearing the history records on the computer and opened up a new search. Looking for the method of finding a GPS location for a cell phone. He thanked everything good in the world that he had a glove box full of burner phones. He was able to grab one and throw it into the trailer with Dean. Hopefully, they don't change the trailers before Dean gets to his final destination. Wherever Azazel is planning on taking him. After about 2 hours of searching, he could not find the program to find the GPS. Dammit. He'd have to wait until Bobby wakes up to get him to do the search.

   He cleared the history again and wiped off his prints from the laptop as he set it down in the patient's hospital room. He could borrow it again later if he needed to. No lock could keep out a trained hunter. He returned to Bobby's room again. The post op finishing up, and Bobby's vitals back to normal. All he had to do now was wait until Bobby woke up long enough for him to get his friend out of there and back on the road.

   “Stay strong Dean. We will find you.”

 

 

 

 


	8. I torture all my friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean arrives at Azazel's and very nearly escapes but is caught and tortured by Alistair.  
> Azazel wants a pliant pet and Dean wont go down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap this chapter was hard to write and I'm pretty sure the next one will be too. Might take some time for me to organize my thoughts and plans for how to do it. 
> 
> WARNINGS for several types of torture, (imagine Dean in the pit but adapted for the non killing kind of torture.)  
> The next chapter will have some more forms of torture for 'training' purposes. 
> 
> *mention only* of non-con, (not sexual rape, a mention of extracting semen from Dean without his consent. could be considered violating.) since this disturbs me on a deep level I will probably never write it. Threatening, yeah, but not actually *doing*. I am very sorry if this upsets anyone. In the show Balthazar mentions that Sam's soul was 'gang banged' in the pit and it's not too far to assume that Alistair would use that threat as well to torture Dean. IT WILL NOT ACTUALLY HAPPEN IN THIS FIC!  
> Just want to make that clear. 
> 
> I plan on bringing Cas and Dean together in the 10th chapter and I apologize profusely for keeping them apart for so long! I did say that it would take some time before they could meet. Just bear with me a little longer!

Chapter Eight:

I torture all my friends

 

 

   Dean was unconscious for nearly the rest of the day. The herb was re-administered twice since leaving his brother and dadfriend on the side of the road. The few times he was somewhat awake, he was visited by that guy and checked up on. Numerous photos were taken and he rolled his eyes at every compliment the guy said. Whatever. He knows he's awesome. But hearing this asshole say it, felt wrong. He vaguely remembered what pets were. Knowing that he never had one in old life, but remembered Bobby always had a dog at his house, up until that last one was killed by a burglar. Rumsfeld was the best dog, he died defending Bobby.

   Dean wondered how in the hell he could remember the dog's name from 8 years ago but not remember the important stuff. Most of his biped childhood was hazy at best. A sea of hotel rooms and monsters all trying to kill him and his family. He also remembered the Impala and Sammy affectionately. Sammy was a constant. He did go to school for a short while, but came back when Dad went missing. They found out that he died on a hunt from other hunters he was working with at the time. Dean still blames himself for that. He was supposed to be his dad's backup but his dad insisted that he took some time off to visit Sam. So he did. But on the way over he got the message from the hunters. Regrets that they didn't catch the thing that killed John. Dean hadn't seen him for two days. And now, he wont ever see him again. That was years ago, but thinking about it now, brought back so much pain.

   His mind decided to show him an image of his mother. His biped mother, so tall, blond hair flowing. Giving him a slice of pie on some random night. He remembered her saying every night when he went to bed, that 'Angels are watching over you, Dean'. And he believed it. For a long time. But, he eventually lost faith when his dad died. What angel was watching over John?

   Dean met up with Sam as soon as he was able. Breaking the news in person. Sam took it even less well then Dean did. The unresolved fight between the youngest and oldest Winchester echoing in both of the brothers' minds. Forever. Turns out, that the thing that went after their dad, had a vendetta against all of the Winchesters. It tracked Sam next, because Dean never had a permanent address. While Sam and Dean were out of his apartment, the monster showed up and decided on a whim alone to kill Sam's girlfriend Jess while she slept. When the brothers arrived later, they saw her remains in the bathtub. The monster waited for them in the bedroom and just as Sam was about to check her for life signs it attacked.

   It underestimated the savage anger of the brothers and it died _bloody_.

   Sam was inconsolable for weeks. Dean wasn't much better, and they went back into hunting down and destroying as many evil sons-of-bitches as they could. Every monster lead that Bobby sent their way was treated as if _this_ were the monster that killed their family. The rampage lasted months. The Winchesters gained a reputation and were respected and well known in the hunter community. Someone claimed that they killed so many monsters that they had saved the world twice over.

   The hunts became fewer, easier, and they finally had the time to grieve. After another few months, they slipped back into their old life, hunting, but not at the fever pitch that they had been. They were not going to give up so long as there were things that go bump in the night. Other families were out there, not even knowing the dangers monsters could bring.

   Dean replayed all of these memories, they skipped around in his mind, but the general feel of his old life was still there. Still strong. That two legged body like an echo to his new one. In his mind, sometimes, they overlapped. He would forget that he was no longer biped and would try to walk on just his hind legs first thing in the morning, only to nearly face plant out of his nest. Sam woke him up once in the garage with some banging pots and he got 3 steps towards him before nearly crushing his younger brother when he lost his balance. Sam didn't feel the bruises until well after his laughing fit died down. Dean got him back later by singeing a part of Sam's hair off after he pinned him down and dripped a single drop of spit on one of the longest locks. Sam was mortified more by loosing that inch of hair on the left side then being pinned down and seeing that massive maw dripping flames at him. Dean had a smug grin on his face the rest of the day as Bobby took Sam out back to trim up his hair to hide the missing bit. The whole time Sam's middle finger was directed at the dragon resting in front of the porch with an elbow crushing Bobby's garbage can. Dean stuck his long forked tongue out and gave him a one fingered salute right back.

   Dean sighed heavily. He already missed his brother something fierce. Even when Sam was being a dick, he was family. Dean thought to himself of all the ways he could have made their lives easier. What he could have done better or differently so he could have his family back. Bobby had said if he behaved everything would be alright. What did he do wrong? Ok, well, _plenty_. He shouldn't have insisted on going hunting alone. He should have kept his big mouth shut and not set fires to Bobby's territory without his permission. He should have let Sam brush his fangs, maybe his breath was actually bad and Sam hated it. He wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise right? Dean should have eaten his meals in private instead of wanting the others next to him. He knew how much Sam was uneasy around him when he's eating, probably seeing the teeth chomp down on cow flesh, bites that are equivalent to Sam's whole torso. He scared his little brother. But, Sam still stayed.

   Why did Sam want him to stay? Dean was a monster. A liability. A never ending pit, eating everything. He set things on fire just by sneezing. He's dangerous. On purpose and on accident. Maybe it would be better if he stayed with this new guy. Of course he loved his brother and dadfriend, but, he might not be good for them. Look how much trouble he brought them? Bobby was hurt, Sam was hurt. They give and give and Dean just takes and takes.

   His body hurt. All of those cuts and gunshots at him... many made it past his scales but he gave a strong front to his family to make them think he was invincible. If they saw how much he hurt, they would have fought harder and gotten into even more trouble. Gotten _more_ hurt. He could take this pain, they can't. They are not nearly as strong as he is physically, but, hopefully, they will be stronger emotionally, mentally. Because Dean's not sure if he will stay strong on the inside like Sam wants.

   Dean remembers Sam's goodbye. It's a little hazy, his view was obscured by heavy eyelids. He saw through one slit that Sam lifted one up eyelid so he could see his younger brother's tear streaked face. Sam was rubbing along the bridge of his nose, ignoring the chains that kept his mouth shut. He felt fingers rub along at the end of his snout, the tender part that could feel every small motion, and felt like purring at Sam's caring touch. Nearly the rest of his hide was covered in thick scales where he couldn’t quite tell if a biped hand was on them or not if it weren't for the pressure behind it. Thankfully, his family seemed to get that they'd have to really smack him hard to show their affection. The difference between petting a horse versus tickling a dove. He was glad it wasn’t quite like 'petting' an animal, when they did it, it felt like what it was intended to be, a smack on a back or shoulder, or a bop upside the head. In old life, he remembers sparring with Sam often. Wrestling for who gets the last slice of pizza, or who has to pay for the next beer run. Usually it was the rock, paper, scissors. Damn. He wished he remembered that sooner. Could have saved them a few taxing arguments in the sign speak.

   His mind became slightly more aware of his current surroundings. Lost in thoughts and memories, they felt more like a vivid dream. Maybe it was a dream. No. Sam showed him a picture of them from old life. He couldn't make that up. And how the hell could Sam give all these memories to Dean anyhow? It just felt... it felt like home. And he wasn't there anymore.

   He blearily looked in front of his chained nose that was turned to the side. His head was so heavy, he just focused on focusing. He could just make out the end of his tail and a foot. Probably hind foot since there's only four toes. He was amused that he couldn’t even feel that foot or tail because he was so drugged up. He could be a marionette on strings for all he knew. That’s all he'll be now. That guy just wants a pet: sit, roll over, speak. Ha. Good luck with that _last_ one. He'd been practicing but can only make extremely simple words. 'No' and 'Go'. Whoopie.

   His eyes felt so heavy, he decided there was no point staying awake to stare at the insides of this semi anymore. He sighed heavily and let himself drift back to sleep. Remembering a time on two legs, driving his baby, and singing classic songs. Was this the nightmare or a dream? Is his current body and situation just gonna disappear one day and he will be back to his normal self? On a hunt in old life that went sideways, Bobby said that if you die in that dream you die in real life. Something like a dream plant doing that? Root? Who knows. What would happen if they did that dream root thing again? With Sam inside his head, or Bobby in here. What would they think of all the madness circling around his mind. Dean shuddered. No one should have to see that. Forget about it. Too much crap in the past of _both_ of these lives. Try thinking of something pleasant. Good. Nice.

   He sunk into the memory of a thousand nights driving his baby with Sammy in the passenger seat, either asleep or reading quietly. Just the two of them on an empty country road. Any time when he was with his little brother was good and worth remembering. He felt the road beneath the semi's tires and let himself think that Sammy was just driving now and he could rest his eyes. The hum of the blacktop, the slight swerve when it turned, and the rumbling engine. The road was home too.

   When the semi stopped, he was jostled forward a little. His eyes opened easier now and he squinted at the brightness coming in from the biped door to the front side of the semi. It poured in and he grumbled at it. He lifted up his hands, still tied together, and buried his face under his wrists. It wasn’t until small hands were on his that he realized he could move again. He squirmed a little but stopped when he heard the cocking of many guns from behind him. The rear of the semi was opened too, must be, more light was coming in and he cringed harder.

   “Now now. You slept long enough, Boy. Either you come out on your own, or we will make you fall asleep again and drag you out.”

   Dean considered his options. He didn't want to sleep anymore, at least not now. He was curious where he was and what it looked like out there. If this is where he was going to escape from, it would pay to at least know what the layout was first. He looked at the man and nodded.

   He clapped his hands, shouting, “Good! Good boy!”

   Dean wanted to roll his eyes but recalled what Sam had suggested earlier, 'Do what he says so you don't get hurt.' and then something that seemed totally opposite, 'If you see a chance to escape take it.'

   Dean looked behind himself as the others left the semi, standing in a semicircle around the exit as he lifted his head and neck higher. The area around looked like a zoo. An actual zoo. There were cages everywhere outside of the area where he guessed he was going to be kept. He and Sam had a hunt in a zoo once. A ghost of someone that died in the gorilla enclosure. He turned his head back forward and struggled to his feet. His limbs ached and were too wobbly at first. He laid back down unwillingly. It was either that or fall down. He grunted in frustration.

   “If you can't get up, we will drag you out. Now move!”

   Dean glared at him.

   “Don't give me that!” He suddenly swung around this stick at Dean that had a forked end.

   Dean cocked his head at it, leaning forward and taking a sniff to identify it. The man shot it forward and he felt white hot pain shock right through his sensitive nose all the way down his neck and he cried out suddenly. He jerked so sharply away from that pain stick that he hit his head hard on the inner wall of the semi. He panted a few times, quick breaths as residual pain bounced around his system. Everything twitched and jerked. He shook his head out, hoping to lessen the soreness and looked back at the stick held firmly in guy's hand. The man hit a button and something white lit up between the forked ends a few times. A clacking popping sound chilled him. The man jerked it forward again, hitting the button and the light sparked closer then Dean ever wanted it to. He jolted to his feet, stumbling backwards from the pain stick and tripped up on the ramp. The man stopped advancing, letting Dean find his feet before following him down from the semi. Dean kept on backing up until he felt a sharp pain in his tail, he whipped around and backed up again. Pain shot out again and again until he finally laid down, looking at everyone and their pain sticks surrounding him.

   “That's enough!” The man shouted and the others retreated a little ways away. “Dean. Don't make us use these on you.” he said with a disappointed frown. As if Dean couldn't smell the satisfaction on the man. The pleasure it brought him to make Dean suffer. Dean held back the growl and nodded curtly.

   “Good boy.” He repeated. He then started to approach again and Dean got to his feet again, quickly shuffling backwards with his long tail curled in from the bipeds behind him. He was being cornered. His wings twitched around his belly, broken wing finger twinging with pain from being shocked by one of the bipeds just a minute ago. He wished he could fly. He wished he wasn’t scared of flying. The sky was right _there_ but his wings and forelegs were still bound. He wished he could just get away right now and go back to his family. He wished they'd be together again. He wished he was back to his old life again. If he were biped like these guys were, then they wouldn't be hurting him. A whimper escaped him as he winced back from the man still coming forward.

   “It's ok. I wont shock you if you behave. Stay still.”

   Dean's eyes shifted back and forth at everyone there. He barely even registered his surroundings beyond the circle of pain sticks. The man was coming closer but slower. He reached his free hand up but Dean only had eyes for the one holding the stick. The man touched Dean's forearm and he shot his gaze down to it. The man didn't seem scared of him at all. Here Dean was, 10 feet tall at the shoulder, 18 feet tall to the tips of his horns, and this guy was now petting him like a damned lapdog. Dean had to curve his neck into an 's' to see the man's face when he's so close. He was very unnerved by this. Even Dean's family would get nervous around him sometimes. _Who is this guy_?

   As if reading his mind the guy said, “That's a good boy. I'm your master now. You will listen to me. I own you. You will do as I say the instant I say it or you will be punished. Understand?”

   Dean hesitated. Sure he could understand those words, but agree to them? That's another matter.

   Since he didn’t answer right away he felt a sharp hot pain in his side, right against his broken wing finger. He jerked back from it sharply and landed heavily onto his left side. Wailing as the pain _would not stop_! He tried to crawl away from it, but the agony in his bones and muscles kept him mostly immobile. Then, the pressure was gone from his wing and the ache in the muscles died down a little. He still twitched and saw the man walk up to him again. Standing over him. Dean didn’t even remember laying down all the way to be looking up at him.

   “I AM YOUR MASTER!” He shouted, lifting the stick again.

   Dean nodded readily. Eyes wide, waiting for the pain again. It didn’t come and that made him a little more nervous. The man lowered the stick and grinned. His scent was filled with pleasure tinted endorphins. He was getting a kick out of this. Dean got royally pissed at that. He was no body's fucking pet. He got to his feet quickly, startling the man and knocking him down, one hand directly over him, pinning him down. His tail whipped back and forth and toppled nearly half of the other bipeds as they got too near. They'd have to touch him to hurt him and he would make damn sure that they didn't get the chance. He was trying to growl and open his mouth properly to flambe this son of a bitch but the chains would not budge. He purposefully drooled a little out of his mouth and sparked the back teeth to create the flame and the drool was now alight with angry fire. He smirked and tried to spit faster, directly over top of the bastard's face. This should put an end to that smug grin.

   The man struggled, yelled and cursed at everyone and everything around. No one could get close enough to do anything. Gun's were fired and did hardly any damage at all. The man's insistence at using nonlethals backfiring deliciously. Someone got a lucky shot in with their pain stick and he jolted to the side, the rope of flaming drool dropped at once just to the left of the bastard's face. He gaped up at Dean as he tried again to get another deadly lugie going. Two more pain sticks joined in and he had to let go of Bastard to whirl around at them. Rage fueled him as he headbutted four bipeds at once, gouging and maiming as he went. His front legs were still chained together but he could walk if he tripoded a little. He shot looks all around, trying to find something to jump onto to get off of the ground. He just saw the semi and scrambled up to its roof. All the while, with his attention diverted to the hard task of climbing without wings or four free moving paws, he was being shocked mercilessly. His tail thrashing into one every few seconds. It was like they were all going and just held upright so that he would shock himself at each pass of his tail. Clever bastards.

   He finally made it to the top of the semi, it groaned under his weight. Parts were denting down from between the supports. He panted through the muzzle. Vision getting cloudy again. His whole body ached and the remnants of the shock trailed around and around his nervous system. He shook his head back and forth, getting some clarity back and surveyed his surroundings again. For some reason he heard Sam's voice in his head, 'Remember Poughkeepsie.' and immediately translated it to 'drop everything and run.' A light went off in his head. Just keep moving. He's much bigger then these bipeds and if he goes over rough terrain then there's no way they can keep up in their trucks. He looked carefully all around the semi. Fuck. It was in the middle of a wide area with his future cage to the right of the semi. He glared at it hatefully. It looked like an aviary for some large animals, maybe things that could jump really high? Fly? It had several bars replaced with newer thicker bars all around and judging by the glint the sun cast on it, the whole thing was probably silver coated. He wouldn’t be able to touch the metal without burning himself. He could set it on fire...

   A shock hit him from behind on his left leg, he got to his feet again and headbutted the biped off of the semi, he ran into two more that were just under him on the ladder. Dean growled at them and looked around for an escape route. Nothing. He can't just leap onto his future cage without burning the crap out of his feet from the silver, and jumping down from the semi would bring him back to square one with the bipeds and their pain sticks. He'd just have to run hard and fast in one direction until a different idea came to mind.

   All around he noticed animistic calls coming from other cages. Some roars, others whoops, clicks, howls, hisses, you name it. The zoo was indeed full, but of monsters. Dean gaped at them. He'd never seen so many monsters in one location before. Dead or alive. Some he didn't even recognize and that's saying something. Some were trying to help him escape by distracting the bipeds but they were ignored easily. Some threw rocks, feces, sticks, food bowls, and a few of the bipeds took the bait, raising an even bigger commotion. Dean chirped appreciatively at them and saw that most of the rest of the monsters were pointing in one general location. Probably the exit. He jumped down from the semi and though his feet felt raw he hobbled in that direction. Some monsters rattled their doors, begging to be let out but he could only give them a fleeting look of sympathy. He can't stop now. He might not even be able to rescue himself let alone all of these things here.

   Through all the noise he kept hearing Sam's voice again and again. It being the last time he heard him speak made them all the more powerful. 'If you see a chance at escape, take it, but if you’re caught again, do not retaliate and set anything on fire. They will just kill you then.' Man his brother talked a lot. Part of his mind supplied. Other fragments kept on a loop in the background noise of his thoughts, 'Don't forget about us, Man. I can't live without you. Be safe. You're gonna be ok. We will get you back.' The sentences scattered and scrambled in his head as the rest of his body strained to keep going. He was passing one cage that was absolutely filled with vampires and they looked like the perfect distraction. A moment was spared as he looked at the 6 of them and then to the pursuers.

   “Yeah Buddy. Let us out and we'll take care of them. Just give us a chance!” The leader shouted. The hunter part of Dean was ticked off at the dragon part but he just shoved it down deep and broke open the door to the vampire cage and they took off running at the other bipeds. It was now a war between the bipeds and vamps and Dean couldn’t care less at that moment who won. Maybe they'd just kill each other off.

   Dean stumbled to a stop. He could hear screaming behind him. Begging.

   No. _Not like this_. Those may be the enemy but they’re just bipeds. They have no chance against those real monsters. He turned his head, watching the fight rage on. At the moment neither side lost any members but that wouldn’t last long since vamps could go for days without rest. The first one down was a woman. She screamed as her neck was bitten into ferociously by the leader vampire.

   No... this is _wrong_. He's not a monster like they are. Why in the hell did he side with them? He started stumbling back towards the fight. As another biped fell, he picked up the pace. Growling and panting.

   The lead vampire saw him charging back and had a wide bloody grin on his face. “See! We got them! We finally got them!”

   Dean got to _him_ first. He landed one huge hand down as hard as he could onto the vampire's head, shoving in so far into the ground it burst on impact. He whipped around at the other 5 vamps who jolted to the fact that their leader was now dead. They looked up at him fearfully and he charged at the next closest one, smashing that one into the ground as well.

   He accidentally knocked over some bipeds but a quick glance confirmed that they were still alive. He then killed two more vampires as they tried to run away. Slamming his chest into them to knock them to the ground then landed a hind foot over top each one. Stomping their bodies into the gravel until they stopped moving. There wasn’t anything left for the head to be attached to. The remaining two were already beheaded. He spun around again, waiting for the hunters to go after him once again. He panted hard. His mouth still shut tight from the chains. It was very hard to breath as strongly as he needed to. His nostrils flared as wide as they'd go and Dean woozily looked around. Muscles tensing whenever one of the bipeds got back to their feet or took a side step around him.

   Bastard came out from behind the semi, blood all over his cloths. He looked at Dean judgmentally. Dean couldn’t tell what he was feeling because he was upwind of him now. The scents going away and the rest of the area was drenched in the smell of old death and blood. The two of them stared at each other, appraising.

   Bipeds all around were looking to Bastard for direction, orders. Some of them murmured to the ones closest. Dean caught fragments of conversation. 'Let him go.' 'Not a monster' 'That is Dean, right?' 'a Winchester wouldn't do that.' 'Hunter after all.' 'Azazel's out of his damned mind.'

   His side fan's turned to catch more of the conversations as his eyes never wavered from Bastard. He kept hearing the name Azazel and figured that must be Bastard's name. He would be damned if he _ever_ called him 'master'. He failed to suppress a grin as more people were of the opinion that he should be let go.

   Azazel didn't seem to agree.

   Dean noticed that Azazel was also listening in on the conversations, while staring Dean in the eyes. Dean snorted at him. He was loosing the popular vote the longer Dean didn't kill anyone. He could win this if he just stayed still long enough. Sam would be proud. Peaceful protest. Of course, the protest in this case was his unwarranted imprisonment, but it wasn't one he was fighting alone right now. His heart swelled with some kind of wonderful feeling when he saw several bipeds take a stand next to Dean's forelegs. Far enough away, still wary, but facing not the dragon but their boss.

   “This isn't right Mr. Azazel. He's not a monster.” One of the women spoke up. She looked up to Dean's still panting mouth and lowered her pain stick. She didn't drop it entirely and that was very smart in the presence of someone like Azazel. Two more joined in. He sensed movement behind him and others standing there at his side. Dean half expected everyone on his side but that was where the warm fuzzy moment ended. Seven bipeds standing there with him. Seven against over twenty. Dean's heart sunk again. He wanted one of his new allies to take off his damned restraints but that would require keys or cutters. He rattled them a little, reminding the ones standing at his sides that he would be able to fight much better if he could just set some fires. They either didn’t notice or maybe agreed with Azazel on that part of keeping his fire under check.

   The standoff continued for another minute before Azazel clapped his hands loudly once, and announced, “I wont kill him. I never intended to kill him. I made a promise and I keep them. We are nothing if we do not follow through with promises. I know that he was once a hunter, like you all standing here. But. That still does not change the fact that he tried to kill each and every one of you back at the road and even here not 10 minutes ago.” he waited for a reaction. He got it a moment later. Some uneasy shifting of feet to Dean's right. Dean snarled at Azazel.

   “See? He is too unstable to be considered human anymore. Driven by instincts. He released my vampire nest just to buy himself some time to escape. His bloodlust got the better of him and he couldn't stop himself from killing them.”

   Some more shuffling. Dean was not happy that Azazel was slowly turning the tide back in his favor. Dean couldn’t even defend himself because his front legs were tied in such a way that he couldn’t sign words easily. He tried now, to sign, 'liar.' but the ones on his side just stepped clear of the kill zone. Dean grunted, annoyed at his inability to communicate without his hands or mouth. He sat back on his haunches more firmly and held up his right hand over the ground, looking to his allies and then hands as he signed, 'help?' but they just looked at it and each other, not understanding what he was going for. Thinking he was just trying to claw off the chains from his wrist.

   Azazel knew basic sign language and was pleased to see that the others weren't as familiar or didn't care. “He is more animal that human now. Just look at him! That's all the proof you'll need. His hands are covered in blood. He killed those things without mercy, hesitation. Just think what he could do to you if he disagrees with you?”

   Dean huffed and growled at Bastard again. He took some steps forward and wanted to just kill him right here and now. End this game for good.

   “See?! See what I mean?! I did nothing to him just now and here he comes ready to kill me!” he shouted, only Dean could hear the triumphant tone underlying the statement. Azazel held up the pain stick again, aiming it up at Dean's head as he lowered it and growled menacingly through the chains. Hissing a spray and then igniting it. It couldn’t go too far but the others firmly on Azazel's side jumped at the chance to shock him all over. The allies he had were nowhere to be found. He cried for their help but found them just gesturing at him and arguing loudly amongst themselves.

   Dean was hurting all over so badly that he could barely stand anymore. Too out of it in agony to place any hits or defense. His body gave out and he fell down hard. Azazel's allies slowing down to a stop once Dean looked like he would die right then and there if he were subject to just another minute of it. Blessed blackness found him and took away all of the pain. He welcomed it. Logically he knew that he was loosing his one chance of escape by falling asleep in front of the enemy but his body didn’t give a rats ass.

   Blackness called to him and he was grateful for it.

   The first thing to return to him was his sense of smell. Earthy, something made out of concrete. Something like alcohol. A scent that reminded him of Bobby's toolshed. The tang of silver nearby. Crap. He inhaled the air again, stale. Stagnant. So, he was inside somewhere. That damned herb scent was all over and made his nose twitch and eyes water.

   The next sense to come back was hearing. A nasally voice. An old male biped. He drawled with what sounded like a stuffed nose. Someone sick. It said, “Beautiful. Just beautiful. I can't wait to see what makes it tick.”

   Bastard replied, somewhere to Dean's right, “No. He's very dear to me. You can do what you want but don't maim him or kill him.”

   “Oh but how I love to see their insides on their outsides!” Dean felt something cut into his neck. He couldn’t move it at all from the sting. He whined a little. Then swallowed it up as the sick man started to chuckle with unrepentant glee. “I am going to carve a new animal out of this one.”

   “No. I hired you because they recommended you for training difficult monsters. Most people don’t have the stomach for what needs to be done. This one... he's too unpredictable. Willful.”

   “Yes, I heard. Let loose some vampires only to kill them later. Strange.”

   “Don't get me wrong, my vam-pets would have killed everyone there if he hadn't changed his mind, but. What kind of animal does that?” Azazel thumped a hand onto the same part of his neck as the knife. Seemingly forgotten that sick one put it there. Like Dean was a damned knife holder in a kitchen.

   “It's awake.” the nasally voice commented.

   “Good. Alistair, I want you to train him right. If you do a good job, we can share this one.”

   “How... thoughtful.” Alistair drawled. “But he's yours, I just want the opportunity to practice my art on something new and as interesting as this thing. Just beautiful. And the freckles are just adorable, don’t you think?”

   An appraising hum was heard and Dean suddenly hated his freckles. He never paid them much attention before in this life, in old life the women swooned over his charms, good looks and the freckles. But now. He was called adorable by someone that had no problem jabbing sharp things into him between his thick scales. He felt sick.

   “So what works on the big boy?”

   “Silver burns, the herb that Bobby Singer had numbs the pain and will knock him out if delivered into the bloodstream or in large enough doses. If you can get the knives under the scales he will bleed but he heals fast enough. Still. We don't have any extra dragon blood laying around so if you do make him bleed, make sure it's only small amounts. Make the cuts count. I'm sure you have other methods that don't require massive blood loss.”

   Dean's eyesight was the last to return and he cracked one lid open enough to see the two bipeds speaking, Azazel had on a different change of cloths and the other, sick sounding Alistair had on a simple button up and jeans with a maroon spattered apron on over top. He was also wearing gloves up to his elbows and a handkerchief loosely around his neck. Dean's eyes widened a little as that meant he was expecting big enough splashes of blood and gore to reach his face. He snuffed more, trying to turn his head to see better but found it bound to the thing underneath him. He was finally able to wiggle a little and discovered he was completely bound down. The floor. His body was on the floor while his head and most of his neck were on a low table that the two were standing at. Better access to his face.

   He mustered up enough strength to curl a lip at them.

   “Oh! How wonderful. We have a fighter!” Alistair cheered. Another small knife was plunged into his cheek and cut downward. Taking with it a few over scales and under scales.

   He yelped in pain and shut his eyes tight. That was far too close to his eyes and he jerked back and forth blindly. The metal table rattling but not moving from the bolts in the floor. He squinted up again at Alistair and saw that his severed scales were being held up to the overhead light and separated by his thumbnail. He rubbed them between fingers, giving a look towards his horns and Dean could feel fingers trace where they connected to his skull. The touch was almost tender but he felt the sting of a knife again and Alistair once again pulled forward more scales, comparing them in the light.

   Azazel said, “I’ll need more samples. Every inch of him. And don’t worry about it leaving lasting marks. I believe he sheds his scales every time he grows, like a snake, he's about due for another one I would guess.” He kept rubbing a thumb along Dean's nose. He felt so violated. Azazel moved down Dean's neck and he couldn't see him once he got a few feet away but could tell where he was because his right hand trailed the whole length of Dean's neck, shoulders, and spine. Tapping a finger to each of his spikes along his back and towards his tail. Like counting them up, then trailing fingertips towards the top of his rump and tail. He stopped just a few feet after that. “Still. Do not cut anything he can't replace. If you have to test what can and can't, just do it in an inconspicuous part. Underside of wing or legs, nothing that will show.

   Dean was distracted from the rest of what he was saying because Alistair was now cutting at the base of one of his upper neck spikes. He wailed and squirmed, the knife was digging in so deep into his black spike he was worried he'd be paralyzed for life if the blade went an inch deeper.

   Azazel noticed this and came over, frowning at the knife. Alistair shrugged but kept on working away at it.

   “I haven't even hit through the bone yet. His spinal cord should be under that. He's just being a big baby about this.” the knife wiggled side to side and Dean started crying for help. He wanted to stay strong, but this was white hot _agony_. He felt his skin become taught and a few more slices cutting away the single spike. Alistair made a few grunts as he peeled away the spike in one piece, and held it up in front of Dean's face to let him see just what he did. The spike was not sharp yet along the outside, and he could see a shallow empty space on the inside of it. Covered in blood and flakes of new scale.

   “See? It's just a few layers of thicker scales, it might grow back to normal or just be your stumpy spike. But don’t worry, since I took it from the back of his head, it wont look too out of place. Of course, I suppose I could have taken one from above his shoulders. Or along his back. Make it easier to put a saddle on him.” Alistair mused while fingers danced over the severed spike.

   “Later. Take one from his back next time. I like that idea of a saddle. Eventually he will be so docile I could probably take him for a stroll.” Azazel said thoughtfully, pleased.

   Dean could feel Azazel's hands along his back and then finding the right spike to sever. “This one. But tomorrow. Give him some of the herb on that sore spot to numb the pain a little. We haven’t even started training yet and if we do too much he might become too damaged to do anything. One of my wolfy's, I went a little too far studying her and her mind broke before I could even start the training.” Azazel shrugged. He started for the door and said over his shoulder, “I trust that he will be in good hands?”

   “The best.” Alistair grinned. He watched his employer leave and his grin got wider as he looked at Dean. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

   Dean felt his anger rise again. He blocked out the pain and growled. His clawed feet and hands dug at the cement, pebbling and turning those into sand as he worked away. He felt the occasional knife jab into his hide and felt every single peel of scale all along his neck in spots, along his spine, and one of his wings was unbound from his body, but when he tried to flap it around to hit Alistair, he found it was limp. The damned herb had been rubbed all along his wing shoulder and edges. There were no muscles awake enough to move his wing arms or fingers. He could still felt the sensations of hands all along each wing finger and then there was the feeling of it being tied up high. He guessed that his wing thumb was being held up to the ceiling by a rope or cord. Alistair worked away underneath the canopy, scraping samples from between the fingers and wrist, elbow and then he brought them over to a separate table that held all manner of tools and a large tackle box the was repurposed into a sample holding case. Each scale was put in its own container and then labeled before being set into the box.

   Dean couldn’t turn his head. He was forced to witness his own body being treated like an experiment. Humiliating. He tried to express how much he fuckin hated Alistair and his knifes with his glare but that just got him a pat on the nose. He snorted at him and was satisfied when the biped had to wipe off the snot. Alistair paused for a moment and smiled. “Almost forgot about that.”And went back to the table with the tools. He pulled out a turkey baster and went up to Dean's face again. “Open wide!” and jammed it into his nostril. Dean felt it scrape all along the sensitive canal and he tried so hard to pull back from its intrusion into his body. He felt air rush into his long nose then a sick sucking noise as his mucus was inhaled into the empty glass tube. It was removed for a second but only so that the greenish viscous fluid could sink to the bottom bulb. Then it was forcefully shoved back into his nose to gather more.

   Dean couldn’t help but let out a painful cry as he felt the end of the tube hit a thin membrane and puncture it. When the thing was removed, blood came with it and Alistair frowned at that.

   “Damn. Contaminated the sample.” He emptied it out into a sink and came back with it, he was wiping it off with a cloth soaked in alcohol to sanitize it. “Good thing you got two there.” Was all the warning Dean had before it was plunged into his other nostril. This time it didn’t hit the membrane and it was pulled out none too gently. Scraping the whole canal on the way. The mucus was dumped into another sample holder and Alistair cleaned it out once again. “Now. Where else can I use this?”

   Dean's eyes got nearly comically wide. Alistair chuckled at that. “Later. Depends on if you've been a good boy or not. If not, we will see what you got under the hood. And I wont be using this tiny little thing.” he waved the foot long tube around like it was too small for Dean's manhood. A small part of his was flattered but was mostly overshadowed by the idea of that being shoved into his genitals. He was grateful he had a sheath covering it from sight, but, Alistair didn't seem the type to let that keep him from abusing the dragon.

   “You shouldn't give me that look. It's not rape at all. It's _science_. Gotta see how you reproduce, if you even carry sperm or have the equipment to make dragon babies.” Alistair shrugged. “If I didn't get a good look at the undercarriage earlier while you were asleep, I would have thought you were a woman. But, they say that you were a male, and until I see otherwise I'm inclined to believe them.” At first Dean thought Alistair was talking directly to him but it gradually became apparent that he was mostly talking to himself. Alistair continued his one sided conversation while he left the room for a few minutes.

   Dean struggled hard to get anything loose. He tried focusing on his raised wing but it would barely twitch. If he could get that thumb free he could try finding out where the chains were that held his feet to the floor. Maybe get some leverage with his wing thumb to pop one of the links. All he has to do is find the loose link. He huffed and snorted. It burned his sensitive nasal cavities and he had to stop for a second to try breathing out his mouth. Blood misted in front of his face whenever he snorted. That membrane would never heal if he didn't let it. Looks like he's gonna be a mouth breather for a little while.

   “Nearly done for the day!” Alistair called out behind him. He froze instantly. “Bet you're hungry, eh?”

   He came around to Dean's face so that he could see him and Dean glared at him.

   “Not hungry?”

   Dean growled a little. He _was_ getting hungry again, guessing he'd been asleep for a few days at least and those 4 deer lasted him the whole way. But now, his stomach was lean again, however, he'd never accept any food this guy had to offer. Chances were it would be rotten meat.

   “Well, can't blame a guy for trying to make nice. See you in the morning, Kiddo.” he said and then started to walk away. Dean's jaw would have dropped if it weren’t tied shut and pinned to a table. He was really just gonna leave him here like this? He couldn’t even lay down properly. His neck was at an awkward angle and besides all that it was freezing in the room.

   Dean gave a few rumbling sounds, trying to call attention to himself but not be too demanding. He knew he'd be punished if he was a 'nuisance' but dammit, he was tied to the floor and a table. What if he had to take a leak? Should he just go where he lays? Aw shit. He wished like hell he didn’t have that thought because now it was a real fucking pressing matter. _Dammit_.

   He called a little louder, rattling his chains and finally resorted to chirping loudly. His chirps seemed to get a decent reaction. He saw a shadow move in the doorway and a figure stand there in his periphery. He chirped again in greeting and the shadow moved away for a moment. He whined and chirped some more. Sam would have a field day of making fun of his noises but he was getting desperate. He really _really_ had to use the bathroom. Well, not a normal bathroom. But that's how Sam always referred to his squatting outside.

   Thankfully the figure returned and came into the room. A small looking girl. She grinned at him and came closer. He could see fangs in her mouth and drew back a little. Just now noticing the metal collar around her neck. 'Princess' embossed on it. She cooed at him and saw that he was completely bound. That gave her enough confidence to come up to him all the way and poke at his mouth and eyebrows. He screwed up his face, trying to get rid of her wandering fingers when she just started to stick them in his side fan ears. He waved them back and forth as she pulled them out and brought them to her nose. Sniffing greatly. He made a questioning look and quick chirp before she started sucking on the earwax on her finger.

   He couldn’t help but make a disgusted noise at that but she didn’t care. He was graced with a wet willy now and she all but started sucking on his ears to get at the wax.

   'What in the hell are you doing?!' he chirp-yelped. He tried waving them back and forth to dislodge her fingers. 'What kind of thing are you?'

   She responded with moans of delight as she licked at his side fans and then trailed her tongue close to his eyes. He squinted them tight. Not wanting those fangs of her's anywhere near his eyes. She poked at his eyelids but thankfully he was stronger then that. When she huffed at him he huffed right back.

   He finally opened them when he felt her hands trail behind his head, up his right horn and down again on the back side. He strained to see but of course he couldn't. Her fingers tapped on the spots where scales were taken from and he couldn’t help but wince back as they were still sore from being cut out. He wished he would shed his skin soon. He wanted so desperately to just roll in the dirt to loosen them up and get the old _contaminated_ layer off so that the new one could dry out properly into his hard shield again. But first, he still had to go pee.

   'Hey, not sure if you can understand me,' he started chirping, 'But uh. I need to use the little dragon's room.' he shifted his hind quarters a little and tried to keep his sheath from touching the ground. He didn't want any pressure at all on his overfull bladder. 'Shit, she probably can't understand me.' He grumbled. He had little hope that she knew hand speak and so he tried speaking that biped speak again. How do they do that with their mouths though? Small word. Starts with that 'puh' sound. Then a scree.

   He puffed his thin lips and then gave a sharp screech. She looked up and moved to his front again. Her eyes squinted and he tried to give a look which could only mean, 'I need to freakin _pee_!' but she just shrugged and moved back to his raised wing. He tried holding it as long as possible but when she rested her knee against his side to look at his wing elbow he lost control and started to urinate.

   He let loose a string of curses and she shrieked at him. Scratching up his wing trying to scramble away fast enough. He sighed heavily. Dammit. He hadn't wet the bed since he was a hatchling. He tried very hard to keep his rump up but then realized that he didn’t feel any dampness. 'What the hell?' after he was done, he retracted back into his sheath, and he felt timidly around with his hind claws for the puddle that should be there but found the edges of a hole in the ground. Or rather, a drain. They put him in a spot where his junk was over a drain. Perfect. That just means that they never intended to let him up from this spot. He guessed that there was another receptacle for his droppings and cursed. He was being treated like an invalid animal. 'I CAN go to the bathroom on my own if you bitches would just _let me_!' he roared as best he could out of his chained mouth. 'Fuckers.'

   He settled again. Glad that at least he didn't have to sleep in his own waste but felt even more miserable. After a few hours he actually wished he had played nice the other day and went into that silver lined cage outside. At least then he could curl up and sleep. Maybe that's what Sam was talking about. Fight by not fighting. But he thought that the opportunity to escape was right there. Granted he didn't have a plan like Sam recommended... but still. He was outside! And the exit seemed so close. If he could have just turned off his old life's morals for five minutes he could be free right now. But. All those hunters would be dead from the vampire attack. Then what? He would have been the cause of countless more biped deaths because the vamps might have let loose all of the other monsters here too. All of them being held here like wild animals. Can't leave them here, but can't let them loose either. Before he leaves this place, he's gonna have to kill them all. They'll see it like a betrayal after the events yesterday. Even if they did see him release the vamps and then kill them. Maybe the other monsters would think that he was too dangerous to trust as one of their own. Not a fellow monster victim of those biped bastards. He was truly alone here. He didn't consider himself a true heartless monster, but, what kind of being does something like that? Give something caged up and tortured freedom in exchange for a few minutes of distraction and then when they hold up their end of the bargain, he turns right around and kills them.

   He sighed into the empty room. The lights overhead bugging him. He couldn't even sleep well with all that light. Maybe this was part of the training Azazel was talking about. Maybe he wanted all of his pets to be seen at all times of the day and night. He had no way of knowing if the outdoor zoo was being lit right now. Probably. It would be easier for the surveillance camera's to spy on every monster outside.

   A noise came to him from down the hall an hour later. Must be nearly morning and he didn't sleep well at all. Just managed a doze from exhaustion alone. He heard a light happy humming and steady footsteps and then a figure in the doorway. He wished he could turn his head properly but it didn't matter as the figure came into view and whistled low at him. An appraising tone. Dean just laid there. Looking impassively at the newcomer. 'What now' going through his mind.

   “They said you were big but damn. You really are quite large.” The man said more or less to himself. He came closer and tentatively rested a hand on the table close to Deans jaw. The guy was covered in birthmarks around his face and arms. It looked eerily like he'd been in a fight with a vat of acid and lost. His eyes were calm, composed.

   Dean looked at the hand, waiting for it to start the torture anew but it just sat there. The man looked at Dean's eyes and then his own hand and lifted it up, showing there was nothing dangerous there. Dean realized belatedly that this guy was trying to win his trust. He snorted at him, forgetting about his healing nose and blood dripped out. He grumbled as the taste entered his mouth a moment later.

   “Damn. I'm sorry for what they did. I heard all about it from some of the hunters we hired. They think we should release you.” the man gave a sympathetic look. “But you probably can't even understand me. Stupid animal.”

   Dean shook his head. He wanted to try the hand speak to him but from his angle he probably wasn't able to see it. He started scratching at the floor and the man finally looked over. Dean grinned and hastily signed, 'hi'.

   The man scrunched up his eyebrows at the huge clawed fingers moving and Dean signed the two letters again.

   “What are you doing?” he mumbled and went to the front of Dean's face again. “Hou did this move with your hand there. What does that mean?” he asked and made the letters at Dean. Dean thought about how to answer him and made some claw sounds again and when he looked around the table, Dean waved as best he could with his hand and bound wrist.

   He stared at the dragon for a few more seconds, trying to figure out what that meant when a light bulb went off. “Did you just do sign language?” he asked near breathlessly.

   Dean nodded a little. That might be what Sam called it when they first started the Alpha Bet weeks ago. Dean started with 'A' and then got to the 'G' before the man held up his hands for him to stop.

   “If that's what you're doing, I don't know sign language. I'm sorry.” he said with a frown. “So you were Dean Winchester? Dean knew sign language?”

   Dean nodded. He was _still_ Dean Winchester but since this guy doesn’t speak dragon or sign language then it would be hard to convey that.

   “Then I must say, I am grateful he finally killed the monster that killed my baby girl's family. I wish I could have told him when he was still around. I guess this is as close as I can get to telling him. Thank you.” The man rested his hand on Dean's forehead, rubbing it in soothing circles. “My name is Nick by the way. Nick Lucifer. I'll see what I can do to get you into better, uhh, get you more comfortable.” He said, looking around for something on the table. “What the hell is all this?” he asked as he found the table with the tools splayed out. “Did they use this on you?”

   Dean nodded, whimpering a little for effect. He was nearly already healed but this guy might be able to help him escape if he felt bad enough.

   “Such animals. Not you, them.” he muttered. “Sometimes I hate being human. Humans can be so, destructive. I mean look at what they've done to this beautiful world?” he gestured around himself as if he were on a mountain plateau rather then a dim windowless room. “and you monsters. Of course you all are no better. _Disgusting_ things.” he said, playing with one of the tiny knifes with a long thin handle, the whole thing about the size of a pen. “I may not like what my partner does sometimes but I will stay out of it. If he wants to keep some for study and learning, then so be it. Somebody has to. I suppose. I prefer to just end their miserable lives. And when the time comes, I swear I will be humane when I end yours.” he said, bringing the pen blade over and setting it down on the table.

   Dean pleaded with his eyes to be let go, returned to his family. He was loosing yet another discussion dealing with his freedom due to his inability to speak or even write in English. Between the written English, spoken, signed, and his own dragon language adapted for signed, it was too much to ask his mind to learn how to read and write in the bipeds way as well. Understanding signed and spoken English were as far as his mind stretched. Pantomiming got him pretty far before that, and basic body language, but just try to convey a thought with those methods while being strapped to the floor and table.

   A stray thought crossed his mind of an old TV show he and Sam watched in some crappy hotel in the middle of winter. A show about a dog that looks like a fancy wolf that barked at a young man, and the dude asking the dog, “is Timmy stuck in the well?” and the ridiculous notion that the dog understood that or could convey that through barks alone. Dean empathized with that damned dog. This was so freakin' difficult.

   “It will be quick, and painless. I promise. He just needs to study you in case we come across another like you again. So we can kill them humanely, efficiently, and painlessly. So far, you're not dead yet, so they have to find out what would work best. My partner Azazel wants to keep you as a pet. That is just idiotic. You're too dangerous.”

   Dean chirped a little to get Nick's attention, he shook his head as best he could and whined a little more.

   “Yeah, that's what they all say. 'No! Don't! Let me live! I promise I wont kill anymore humans!' do you know how many times I’ve heard _that_ one? Like they can even help killing. It's in their blood. Your blood. I heard the reports and you were none too gentle in those attacks. Sure you stopped the vampires, but you were the one to let them out. Did you really think we would be fooled into thinking that you changed your mind in mid battle? You just figured out too late that you can't escape from the zoo. And wanted to fool us into thinking that you're suddenly on humanity's side. That you don't in fact want all of us dead.” Nick frowned at Dean and shook his head. “You're not fooling me, and it sucks all around that you once were a great hunter I actually looked up to, even though he was younger then me. Such a waste.”

   Dean signed over and over again, 'am me!' but Nick just turned heel and put the pen knife back onto the tool table.

   “Like I said, I'll make it quick and painless when he's done with you. So you don't have to worry about that. I’ll see if Azazel can get you into a good cage so you can move around between sessions. We are not like you monsters.”

   Dean doubted that. In this life most of the bipeds he met tried to kill him and his family. Sam and Bobby were the only one's that were completely on his side, willing to risk everything to save him. Other bipeds were kind for only a few minutes. When those 7 stood beside him, he felt happy, but then they stood back and argued while the others shocked him until he passed out from pain. What good does that do him? To have ally's for only a few minutes?

   His thoughts were interrupted when someone else was seen in the doorway coming in. Nick looked up and held out a hand to the man that was here yesterday, “Hello, you must be Alistair. Heard so much about you.” He said dryly.

   “Oh! Good to meet a fan.” He shook hands readily.

   “That was not a compliment.” Nick lowered his brows and damn near glared at Alistair. “When you're done for the day, give the damned thing a chance to stretch. Put it in that cage that was made for him. Otherwise Azazel spent all of that money for nothing. Silver plating isn't cheap.”

   “As soon as it's done being wired for electricity. Now that we know cattle prods work on it, we can use that as a further deterrent of escape. Whenever he touches the metal, he will not only be burned by the silver, but shocked as all hell. I recommend a smoke detector as well and a metal grid on the floor to shock him if he tries to use his fires again.”

   “Just make sure he gets a chance to move around. Atrophied is a real thing you know. Your tests could be inconclusive if he's not up to full strength. A sick monster is easier to kill then a healthy one and what we learn could be totally different when we are dealing with a healthy dragon. _Do it right_.” he pointed at Alistair's chest and then said, “I will be back to check up on it.”

   “Of course.” Alistair said with his smug nasally voice.

   Nick nodded once at him and gave one last glance at Dean who whimpered a little. Nick left without another moments hesitation.

   Alistair looked to Dean and sneered at him. He suddenly punched Dean hard against his nose, and then covered up his nostrils with one hand and pinned his mouth down with his body.

   Dean made a shocked sound before his mouth was firmly shut, trying desperately to breath through his lips and teeth while bucking his head up and around to dislodge Alistair's grip. His vision began to swim and just as he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen Alistair got off of his head and let go of his nostrils. Using both hands in shaking his snout back and forth while shouting, “Wakey wakey!”

   Dean slowly came back to reality and saw Alistair write something down on his notepad. “You can hold your breath for 5 minutes without a moment's notice. Good to know.” he put the notepad down and looked to Dean again. “Now lets see how long you can hold it when you're expecting it. He said and brought his hand over slower this time, covering up Dean's bloody nostrils and leaning over his nose, putting pressure down a little slower. Dean inhaled greatly and the weight that landed on him increased a little until no more air could be inhaled. Dean started to count down and his lungs burned again. He tried not to think about it but it consumed everything. 'Can't breath, can't breath, need air. Gonna die!' and once again his vision blurred. He dimly felt the pressure on his head shift, a sharp pain to his cheek and he came to just for a moment before blackness consumed him once again.

   He woke some time later. He knew not how long, but Alistair had enough time to unchain his mouth and put something at the back on his teeth that tasted funny. He tongued at it, finding that the thing covered up his back sparker teeth. He produced the fire starter spray immediately and looked around himself to find out where Alistair was. He wanted to set that fucker on fire in the worst way. But no one was around. The haze lingered in the air. He pumped out some more when that settled slowly onto the ground. Still no one. He cursed in his head. Even if he could produce a spark right now, which he couldn’t due to the thing covering each of his four sparker teeth, he had no way to make that spark hit the now settled fire starter. It had moved from his mouth too far to be ignited. Damn it. He had just a very small amount left in his stores, and he saved that for when someone actually appeared to be burned.

   He waited, and waited. No one showed up. He lowered his head again. Tonguing at the covers and found that they were bound pretty tight to those teeth. His claws might be able to uncover them... if he wasn’t still strapped to the table. Another hour passed and he dozed some more. Blacking out from pain was not restful at all. And all this on an empty stomach. He was so freakin' tired and sore he almost didn't notice the figure standing at the doorway. He waited for it to come closer and it just sat there. 'What the hell? Get over here so I can kill your ass.'

   The figure moved closer and he shot out the rest of his fire started and ground all of his teeth like mad. Surely one of them could produce a spark. Nothing. He growled and roared at the intruder. He tried making the metal around his hands spark and finally that idea had some merit as a flame's glow lit the floor. It spread out for a good 20 feet and just burned peacefully. The difference between a fireball in the air and just spilled gasoline. It's not like in the movies. The floor was on fire but it was just concrete underneath so the only thing that burned was a crate in the corner and his fluid fire and then that petered out eventually. Well... at least he was warm now.

   The figure walked a little further into the room and clapped his hands. It was muffled by the layers of flame proof fabric Alistair wore. A fireman's suit. Should have known. The hood was now down and his grin spread widely across his smug face. “Well done! Four tests in one morning!” He announced and walked closer. Dean pulled his head back a little from the approaching bastard. Hoping that Alistair would forget how far he could reach now. Dean never tasted biped before, and it churned his empty stomach, but he could muscle through the nausea long enough to end this torture. Just one quick rip of teeth on his neck.  
Alistair was just about in reach when he turned and jabbed something sharp and shocking into his cheek. A sound like 'tataatattataatta' deafening in his ear. It was pulled away only when he yielded. It hovered in the air where his head was as he kept it out of that things reach.

   “Taser. Good to know it works well enough for training but not too strong to knock you out.” Alistair buzzed him again for fun. Dean couldn’t form a though as the shock circled around and around his brain. It finally stopped and Alistair chuckled to himself. “Needed more then a rolled up newspaper for you, Boy.”

   Alistair went back to the tool covered table and set up a camera on a tripod in front of Dean's face. He turned it on while humming a tune, and then went back and set up another camera to Dean's right side to presumably get the rest of his massive body. It was placed along the wall, out of the way. Alistair kept on humming as he fiddled with the small pain stick. The taser? And then moved down his neck, shocking every foot and saying numbers that Dean just barely heard above the pain. He finally reached his tail and the taser actually lost power by the end of it. Dean was left panting and exhausted, his muscles still jumping all over and his mind was a whirlwind of pain and adrenalin. Alistair walked casually to Dean's head again, shaking the taser around and frowning at it. “Guess I forgot to charge it after the werewolf.” He tossed it to the tool table and jotted down more notes. Dean's head dropped and lolled to the side. He mustered up enough strength to growl hoarsely at Alistair. 'That... that all you... got?'

   As if Alistair knew what he was saying, the businesslike grin came across his face again. “Now that we have your tolerance for pain mapped out a bit regarding scale removal and electric shock. Let's see if we can expand our horizons.” He picked up a massive pair of pliers and walked over to where Dean couldn’t see him anymore. His body shuddered involuntarily. He had one of Dean's fingers in its grip and slowly applied pressure until Dean couldn’t hold in the cry anymore. He was sure his finger was severed clean off but the pressure left and there was a moment of peace before he felt a different finger's nail being pinned down. He tried moving his hand out of the way, shaking it urgently but more pressure formed on his wrist. All of Alistair’s weight was being forced down through the heel of his boot onto Dean's wrist and normally he'd just shrug it off but Alistair wasn’t wearing normal boots like Sam or Bobby when Dean boosted them up onto his back, no, _Alistair planned for this_ and was wearing metal cleats on his boots. With silver plating.

   His hand burned more fiercely then his own fires and he struggled hard to loosen its heavy weight impaling his wrist. The clamp let go and the heel ground deeper. “Stop squirming!” Alistair shouted and Dean tried very hard to acquiesce. When he was just a ball of shuddering nerves bouncing, the boot lifted and Alistair gave him a withering look. “Now. Stay still while I see how much you can take.” The pressure returned to his finger claw and Dean bit down on his tongue to keep from moving. He only jerked when the claw broke in half down the center. The crack traveled all the way up into his nail bed and he screamed. The second the clamp was gone he fisted his hand and whimpered into the table. Drool and heavy steam filled breaths fogged up the metal top and he wanted so badly to suck on his finger, pull the rest of the claw out and cauterize the wound. Something flowed from his finger into his palm and he hoped he would just pass out for the rest of the tests.

   Alistair 'tisked' at him and admonished, “Now look what you made me do. You're bleeding all over the place. Hang on. I'll get the plant.”

   Dean wanted to sigh in relief at that. The plant would numb the pain. Some small form of comfort. Alistair went to the tool table and produced a vial instead and went back to his hand. “Open.”

   The command was simple but Dean was hurt too badly to obey. Alistair said more firmly. “Open or I’ll pinch off another claw.”

   Dean got pissed. He turned his weary head at him and growled, 'Fuck you!' before trying again to set him on fire with the bare fumes he had left. Grinding his teeth like mad, hoping to rub those covers off enough to create just one more spark.

   Alistair frowned. He went back to the table and pulled off a saw. Coming back around to Dean's side. His heart dropped. “Now the real fun begins.” he practically purred.

   “Alistair stop!” A firm voice shouted into the room from all over. Dean looked up, startled. “I did not give you permission to maim him.” The voice came from some black boxes in the upper corners of the room.

   Alistair cursed silently and addressed the cameras that Dean now noticed in the corners opposite of the speakers. “I wasn't going to do permanent damage. But this brat needs to learn respect. You hired me to train him.”

   “Stand down until I get there.” Was the reply and a crackle was heard from the speakers before they went silent.

   The venom laced glare that Alistair sent Dean actually gave him pause. _Shit_. “Got one minute before he joins our little party. Oh how will we pass the time?” he whispered.

   Dean blinked at him. Shitshit _shitshit_. Before he could open his mouth Alistair picked up a crowbar from the table and drove it into his horns. Not leaving a mark but giving Dean the worst headache of both his lives. Another blow. And _another_. He moaned in pain and tried to bite at Alistair's hands when he moved in for another position but Alistair dodged and slammed the crowbar down onto his sensitive nose. His jaw snapped shut and his teeth came down onto his tongue. Blood filled his mouth and he tried biting again at Alistair. Ignoring everything but the white hot desire to rip his face off. Another blow and he was fuckin' _furious_. He pushed and pulled his body up and back, thrashing wildly. Chains groaned as they threatened to buckle. His head and neck were now loose from the table and he lunged forward, trying to rip the torturers chest open but accidentally pushed it instead. Alistair fell backwards and was about to lunge right back into the dragon when a shot rang out into the enclosed space. Dean shot a quick look up at the gun and ignored it in favor of loosening more chains. Pushing back with all his might against one, then another. If he focused all his attention and force on one at a time it should work.

   He didn’t get too far as a pain stick was jabbed into his neck at the base. Sending the shock wave upwards and down his spine. Through the tears he could see it was Azazel at the other end with Alistair going for another stick. Once that joined in he was passing out too quickly to see how the confrontation would turn out between his owner and torturer. As Dean drifted off completely, he hoped that Alistair would get what's coming to him for damaging Azazel's pet.

 

 


	9. I went down in a Burning ring of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is now a Good Boy.
> 
> Warnings for Torture, mental, physical, emotional. Graphic scenes of violence.  
> This chapter was as hard to write as the previous one, but I assure you that it will get better in the next chapter! This is this AU's version of Dean breaking in hell. Since Dragon!Dean is only a few months old, it doesn't take as long for him to break as it did in canon. 
> 
>  
> 
> Always keep fighting - Jared Padalecki.

Chapter Nine:

I went down in a burning ring of fire

 

 

   “Good morning, my pet.”

   Dean barely moved, how in the hell did Azazel know he was awake?

   “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

   Dean felt a very light pressure on his tail and twitched it out of the way of the hand. He blearily opened his eyes and saw Bastard on the other side of gleaming metal bars. Azazel touched them and said, “Silver. Wont burn me, but you... I wouldn’t try it.” He said frowning slightly. “Hungry? There's a dead Angus over there all ready for you. You go eat breakfast and we will talk later.” Azazel stood up and brushed off his pants, changed from when he last saw him coming to his 'rescue' that ended with both 'A' list bastards shocking him into unconsciousness yet again. The bars separating them were his main cage but there was a relatively smaller one attached to it. A safety feature that meant he'd have to get through two sets of locked doors to escape this place. Great. Azazel walked away through the other wide set of doors. Dean moved his head around and saw that he wasn’t bound to the floor this time. His head limp by his foreleg and he absently noticed that two of his clawed fingers were bandaged up and numb. His gaze eventually drifted around and he flexed his wings a little. Just enough to tell that they too were unbound, but limp and heavy. His whole body was too tired to move. How long did he sleep? He only ever slept anymore. Slept and hurt.

   The smell of the meat was tempting though, that would help with the hunger pain part of the problem. It had been days since he last ate. His stomach was so empty he felt it was becoming concave. From old life he remembered that he would have to eat the meat slowly, otherwise he'd just throw it up again. Then have to eat _that_ instead. No doubt they'd refuse to get him another cow just because the first didn’t agree with him. He reluctantly wondered if they thought he'd only need one cow a day. Crap. He will starve before the week was out. When he was with Sam and Bobby, he had at least two a day, lately 3 or 4. A trace of a smile crossed his lips as he thought of bankrupting this zoo with just his food demands alone.

   A sick thought crossed his mind right after. Would Azazel just turn to the other cages then? Which would he care about more, the dragon that's the rarest of monsters? Or that pack of Skin walkers just over there. Half in animal form now and the other half wearing scraps of clothing. No doubt what they were wearing when they were first captured. Must have been ages ago. He grimaced at the thought. Both that they were kept here just like him, and that the end of their lives would just be another meal for him. When anything get starving ravenous, morals go out the window. Human, animal, monster... doesn't matter. 'Survival of the fittest' – he recalled with a grimace. They wouldn’t stand a chance against a huge starved beast like himself.

   He looked at the Skin walkers and sighed. Generally they weren’t violent or dangerous at all. Their origins were mainly native American and the descendants were hardly ever on their radar of things that need ganking. If he were to release any monsters from this place and not feel guilty it would be them. Werewolves and Wendigos couldn’t help what they were and killed indiscriminately. Some for food, others just for the fun of killing. Skin walkers weren't like that. They retained their morals when in both forms. No more dangerous then your average person. He turned to the cow again and stuck his neck out as close to it as it could reach without actually getting up. Just a foot closer and he could have dragged it back. He grunted and shuffled the short distance and gripped the foreleg of the dead thing and pulled. His neck ached and he had to rest a minute before tugging it closer again. He hoped to all things holy that this wasn't one of those Skin walkers in animal form when it died. Shit. Now he's not even sure if he wants to eat or not. He took a long sniff of it, and didn't notice anything supernatural about it and resigned to just eat it. But slowly. He didn't want to see this again anytime soon.

   Azazel came back around a short time later. “Feeling better?”

   Dean huffed at him.

   “Good! Now I want to start off with your training today.”

   Dean was about to growl a warning but was shot down by Bastard saying hastily, “It will only hurt if you don't listen to me.”

   'Fuck. You.' he growled anyway. Wishing like hell that if Azazel could understand him just once, this was it.

   Azazel seemed pleased with that response and produced the small pain stick from his pocket. Taser? Yeah, that's what it was called, the long pain sticks were cattle prods. Things that bipeds use to move cows around with electric shock. He tried to learn as many biped speak words as possible because Sam would want to know what happened so they could kill these bastards with the _appropriate_ amount of gusto.

   “This whole cage is wired with electricity, so don't get any ideas. And if you try using your fire, there's sensors everywhere that will detect it and shock you into next week.” Azazel pointed them out and went to one to show what would happen. He lit a small flame from a lighter and held it up to one of the sensors just outside of the cage and a shrill beeping went off and Dean felt the shock wave run through the flattened bars on the ground where he stood. He jumped up to get off of them but they kept on going and he rammed into the sides bars of the cage and felt the sting there too. No matter where he went he felt the shock and his body convulsed each time.

   Azazel hit some buttons and the shocking floor and walls subsided. The hum of electricity abating. Dean was still jumpy, trying to stay off the ground while not touching the walls or ceiling that wasn’t far enough overhead. His wings tried to get him to hover but there was just no room for him to fly in this cramped cage. He couldn't even spread them out wide without burning his wing wrists on the silver.

   “You’re fine now! Just proving a point. Don't set any fires or you'll be sorry.”

   Dean fell to the ground, panting hard, chest heaving and that familiar painful tingle running along his muscles and nerves. His lunch wanted to come up in the _worst_ way. He swallowed it back down, gasping for air. His cage was only 30 feet by 30 feet by 15 feet high. Not even enough room for him to stretch out all the way. He would easily be 20 feet tall by now if he'd had some proper meals these last few days.

   He tried to get his breath back as Azazel went on. “One meal a day will be delivered at noon. You don't need anything more then that, and if I think you need more or less, you will get more or less. The feasting that you're accustomed to will end now.” He looked towards the blood stain on the ground where the cow was laid. “Water is fresh enough, and if you contaminate it on purpose you will not get more. Besides, water and electricity do not mix and you will be shocked to death before we even know you're in trouble. So do not make a mess.” he then went on, as if this were a script he recited for each new monster. “You will learn to respect me, the keepers, and your fellow creatures. You will not fight unless I want you to fight. You will not eat anything that I don't provide. For example, if a squirrel manages inside your cage, you are not allowed to eat it. Sometimes birds will come to clean the remains of your meal, you are not allowed to interfere. Eat fast if you want your food. If I were to allow all of my pets to eat anything that comes near, their diets will be ruined. We have made sure that each pet has the appropriate meals for life. Wild animals have diseases and parasites and I don't want any of you to get sick.” He made a face like he actually cared about their health and not how their coats and bodies would look if they weren’t pristine. Like allowing pedigree dogs to eat roadkill. It of course did not extend to making sure that his pets clothing was pristine as well. That was seen as a treat for good behavior, Azazel explained. Dean took a glance around and saw the state of undress in some of the cages. Wendigo's were very naked, and besides the Shape shifters which could create cloths from their own bodies, the Skin walkers were the best dressed around with buttons still on their shirts. All the rest were varying degrees of tatter. Dean didn't really care about cloths, his were in a duffel bag back with his brother...

   Damn he missed him. Sam said he'd come for him. Where is he?

   “If you do become ill, you are required to let one of the handlers know and we will deal with it accordingly. Better hope it's inexpensive and treatable. If not, I had been feeding the sick to the ghouls, but now, with you here...” he let the implications hang in the air like a hangman's noose for the other monsters. Dean wanted to throw up again.

   “You will also learn the basic commands and eventually, if I feel you are properly trained, you will be allowed to leave your kennel and go for walkies. Misbehave even the slightest amount, or try another ridiculous escape again and you will be bound and gagged for a week without food. Alistair assures me that you can last that long before permanent brain damage sets in.”

   Dean couldn't suppress a growl at the mention of that monster and Azazel frowned at him.

   “I may not approve of all of his methods, but he is the best and if you got hurt it was your own fault.” The taser had a small hand strap and Azazel was mindlessly swinging it back and forth like a closed umbrella.

   “First, the easy commands. Sit, stay, roll over.” he smirked and pulled an actual dog biscuit out of his pocket, waving it in front of the cage. Dean cocked an eyebrow at it. As if he'd want to eat that.

   “Sit.” Azazel commanded.

   Dean was standing and looked around himself, trying to figure out if he could just muscle his way through any weak spots in the bars. They didn't look too strong, but when he slammed his body against it earlier they felt it. What if he tried what he did in that room. Focus on one at a time. He looked ahead of himself at Azazel who had a frown on his lips.

   “I know you can understand English, don't play dumb with me, Boy. Now, SIT.”

   Dean shook his head. He was nobody's fuckin' pet. He would never be a pet. If he had to die here, he'd die with honor. That honor wilted as the metal bars all around him shocked him long enough for him to fall to his ankles, crying out between sharp gasps for air. The pain lifted and he looked down to his traitorous legs, he was sitting.

   “Good boy!” Azazel cheered. “Now, here's your treat.” he tossed the dog biscuit at Dean's face and it landed close to his chest when he didn’t catch it. “EAT IT.” he growled, “You deserve a treat, now _eat it_.” his hand hovered over the keypad too far beyond Dean's reach.

   Dean's hoarse growl reverberated his whole body. He got back to his shaky feet and charged at the cage in front of Azazel. He was shocked but bounced back before it could cripple him. The silver however burned his skin and he just realized that his wings were hurting from where he ran into the bars earlier during the fire smoke demonstration. His chest bore vertical and horizontal burn lines on his scales and he hissed profanities at Azazel.

   “Never did get why silver burns you. I thought that the legends of dragons said your kind loves silver and gold, jewels, coins. All things shiny. Like a bird decorating a nest. Huh, guess the _legend_ falls incredibly short.” Azazel pointedly looked at Dean, the double meaning loud and clear.

   “Prove to me you’re not stupid and bullheaded. Your hunter reputation said otherwise. But maybe, you really are just some dumb monster that can't even preform a few tricks. Not even to make your life easier. You are useless. Worthless.”

   Dean hissed, 'Yeah? Well there's people that miss me. Who's gonna miss you when I kill you?' he looked around at the monsters in the other cages. ' _No one_. You are gonna die bloody and no one will miss you.'

   “Eat the fucking treat so we can continue.” He said sternly and pointed at the biscuit.

   Dean stood on it, crunching it into the dirt. Azazel sighed heavily. “Fine. Looks like you are not hungry. No food tomorrow.” He then held up his hand, palm out, “Stay.”

   Dean got up and moved closer just to spite him. The floor was electrified again and he crumpled unwillingly to the ground yet again.

   “I didn’t say lay down!” The shocks continued and Dean struggled to his feet, backing up to his former position just to make the torment _stop_. The painful sensation subsided and it took a moment for him to comprehend that he wasn't being shocked anymore. “Good boy.” Azazel singsonged.

   “Now you may lay down.” Azazel stated primly and Dean just fell where he stood, not able to lift himself up any longer. His mind swam and thoughts were harder to process. Small shivers coursed through his skin and he looked up expectantly for the next command. He hurt so bad. _All the time_. It was like his constant companion now.

   “Stay.” Azazel commanded and smiled as Dean obviously couldn’t go against this order as he was limp where he laid.

   Dean wanted to point out that that was cheating but didn't have the strength to fight it. Azazel walked around to appraise the damage Dean did to his wing when he hit the silver bars. “Listen. Just do as I say and you wont be in pain. How hard is that? It's not like I'm asking you to stand on your head or run marathons here.”

   Dean blearily looked at him. It did start to sound somewhat reasonable. After all, Sam was coming for him. He just needed to be patient. Sam was coming and this guy will get what's coming to him.

 

 

   “Bobby.” Sam said, nudging his friend's side. “I found the GPS for the phone but it says that it's overseas now. Heading for Hawaii.”

   “Tha'ss nice.” Bobby slurred.

   “Bobby, I think they found the phone and mailed it off to Timbuktu.” He grumbled and slammed his laptop shut. “You gonna have a real conversation with me today? Or are you planning on being stoned off your ballcap with pain meds like yesterday and the day before and the two before that?”

   “mmmmeds.” a hand lilting in the air like he's conducting a fairy symphony.

   “What I thought.” Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I don't know where else to look. I tried tracking down that tow truck, the semi company, both dummies of course. They probably swapped out license plates and that semi was from a salvage yard similar to this one.” He said, looking at his notepad of ideas, “I checked into Azazel's background, see if he owns any property but nothing showed up. Probably uses an alias more then his real name, if Azazel is his real name. Kept finding links online for that name and demons. Wouldn’t surprise me that demons were a real threat now. Hadn't seen one in years, not since that plane incident hunt. What do you wanna bet this Azazel is one of them. Shit. Just imagine if we had to deal with demons on a daily basis. I mean I know Dad insisted we keep holy water and salt on us at all times but really? They're so _rare_ , I doubt we will ever see another one in our lifetime.” Sam grumbled. “Salt comes in handy, and water too, but we never used it for the monsters, we just bless it and hope we don't have to use it. Usually end up using it for our own thirst. Better safe then sorry I guess, so we just bless all our water.” Sam just mumbled to himself, needing to fill the air in the silent study.

   Sam got up from his armchair and checked on Bobby laying on the couch with pillows beneath his shoulders, head, and knees to help him fit on it without leg cramps. A bed was too much hassle to haul downstairs and Sam needed to keep an eye on him while he had sole research duty. Books piled up all around the two on dragon lore and on top of those were the research notes into this Azazel jackass. No word from the partner of his with the birthmarks. Nick Lucifer. Now there’s a name you can trust. If there's a demon it's gonna be the guy that hangs around the devil himself. He shook his head, that Nick guy didn't seem to bad though. Just like a normal hunter. Sam didn't exactly like the guy, but he wasn't there when they were after Dean either time. Maybe Azazel had not told him about it. Nick said that he owed Dean for killing that monster. Even showed up to pay his respects when he thought Dean was dead. Most hunters just send condolences. Maybe Nick doesn’t know or like what Azazel is doing to Dean. Maybe Azazel never told him that the dragon _was_ Dean and he will hate it for killing Dean.

   He had tried finding Nick days ago, after Azazel came up a bust, but that turned up just an obit for his family's death years ago. Nick's wife and infant son. He went off the grid shortly after that. Like most hunters.

   Sam received the location of the Impala's weapons and planned on heading out to that field the second Bobby gets road ready. It was a bitch to smuggle him out of the hospital with enough meds to last. A complication in the post op left Bobby in a bad way. Sam was worried that Bobby would be paralyzed from the waist down but that was a false alarm. Still. He had to take it extremely easy for a few months if he didn't want to become paralyzed later. The bullet went through and nicked his spine. They didn't find out until the next day after surgery. Those doctors didn't know what the hell they were doing. Of course, it's not like Sam was a spinal surgeon... there was a reason Sam took him to a professional.

   Bobby's wheelchair was close to the older hunter that looked dazedly towards the TV Sam brought in. Bobby never paid attention to TV shows before, because the life he led was too busy for distractions like mid morning soap opera's. Currently a Spanish drama was playing and Sam would hear the occasional comment in Spanish from the doped up hunter. His own knowledge of the Spanish language was just from high school and all he made out was that Bobby was upset that Miguel was cheatin' on sweet Marie.

   Rolling his eyes he went back to work, opening the laptop again and sighing in frustration. His brother was out there and depending on him to come rescue his ass. Sam would chuckle at the irony of a dragon needing rescuing but he was too exhausted to laugh. “White Knight to the rescue.” he chuckled and heard his older brother's witty retort in his head, “If I'm the dragon that makes you the princess. Goldilocks.”  
Sam heard his own comeback, “That's Goldilocks and the three bears, and she wasn't a princess.”

   “Alright alright, Rapunzel.” Dean would smirk triumphantly and go back to eating liquorice while sitting sideways on Bobby's wheelchair. Legs over one armrest and back against the other, one arm draped behind the fake leather back.

   Sam looked over and saw the fake Dean fade like a wispy cloud and sighed heavily. Damn he missed his brother's stupid face and his stupid licorice. He will find his brother, get him back to normal, and have a nice decent argument with the jerk about how licorice is not a snack, it's disgusting and made of dirt.

   Sam bowed his back to help ease the ache of sitting in one spot for countless hours and laboriously opened up his laptop again. Aggressively typing in the next flimsy trail to search. [where can I buy a surveillance drone]

 

 

   The rest of the day passed like all the other ones here at the zoo. In a blur of aches and pains. He stayed up the rest of the night. Suppose being knocked out from pain so much caught him up on his sleep schedule something fierce. He doubted he'd sleep tomorrow night either. Unless Azazel decides to be an asshole again. The night came slowly and his stomach growled angrily at him. He hated the fact that he would no longer get that single meal tomorrow since he couldn’t swallow his pride long enough to just eat a small biscuit. It would barely even have a chance at a flavor in his mouth. Like eating a crumb to him. The principle of the thing doesn’t matter to a hungry stomach.

   Sam will come. He has to. But he'd be no good in a rescue mission if he's too weak from pain and hunger to even get his ass out of the cage. His thoughts circled around like this for those long dark hours. He curled up into himself, wishing for some kind of heat. Not even residual heat from the sun could be found since his cage had a very tall tree nearby.

   He stretched his back like a cat and took a few laps around his area, careful not to touch the walls or upper bars since everything was always electrified. He heard some distant sounds start once the moon was in the sky. Some indistinct growls and howls. Some hoots and other noises like cat purling and some cawing. Oh great. He forgot that most monsters were nocturnal. Wonderful. At least it wasn’t a full moon out and he was awake anyway. He said, 'fuck it' and joined in the nightly festivities of howling at the moon. His more of a roar, but who cares, this felt awesome.

   Most of the other monsters shut right the hell up when he joined in. Dean chalked it up to intimidation because his was the best of them all. A light went on at the big observatory station and that shut the rest of the monsters up with some whining and whimpering heard. Dean's howl/roaring slowed to a stop as well, cocking his head to the side to figure out why they were scared of a little light. Then. Without warning. Every cage in the zoo was alight with electricity. Animals screamed and screeched, wailing and crying. Dean wasn’t immune and he cried out too, unprepared for it at all. It stopped after just 5 seconds but that was enough.

   A voice bellowed over the loud speaker, echoing off walls, cages and windows, “SHUT UP!” and then hiss-poped off again.

   Moans an whimpers were heard all around him like a symphony as the monsters settled down again. Many, Dean could see, were shooting accusing glares directly at him. The ones with hands were making all manor of visual threats to what they'd do to him if they could. He shrugged and turned around to ignore them. In truth, he knew it was his howling roar that woke up the night guard, but he didn't want to take all the blame solo. _They started it_.

   'Making friends already.' he mumbled to himself and got a werewolf shushing him to his right. He stuck his tongue out at it and went to get a good long drink of water. He turned back to the werewolf again and shot out a stream of spit water at it and got a slight shock for it when the water conducted with the metal bars. It was worth it to see the thing shake off the water and send death threats at him. 'You looked like you needed to cool off.' he chirped at it.

    Some other werewolves in their cage pulled the wet dog back from charging the bars and Dean puffed up his wings and flared his fans and teeth and claws. 'You wanna piece of me?' he taunted, tail lashing and sparking the bars before he curled it around. Wincing wasn’t helping his bravado. 'Take you all on  _bitches_ .'

   A werewolf fight ensued in their own cage and Dean settled again after flapping his wings a few times to rustle out the nerves. 'Dog fighting is illegal you know.' he tease chirped at them. Drinking more water for himself because damn that was nice going down his sore throat.

   The night wore on and daylight started to peek through the cages again. He yawned and stretched like a cat. Ready for a another full day of humiliating torture. Oh goodie. The hours moved on by, with him ignoring the tedium of it all. Dean was bored. Very bored. He felt like a houseplant for as much attention as the other monsters were giving him. He supposed they were now just gonna shun him and pretends he doesn’t exist. Maybe they’re jealous of the 'master's new toy'. Whatever. He made up his mind days ago to kill every monster here, excepting of course the harmless Skin walkers, because fewer monsters in the world is better. Just a matter of time that one or more gets loose. He picked up on conversations from the zookeepers that several people heard about Azazel's new acquisition and were offering up cash money for it. Dean felt sick. Apparently Azazel and Alistair weren’t the only ones that wanted Dean for science or ownership. Someone mentioned a female dragon and Dean's attention shot right to the two speaking. He chirped loudly at them, hoping they'd bring their conversation closer. He could only make out murmuring and the occasional finger pointed in his direction and the words, 'Offspring' and 'Wolfe labs'.

   'Wait! What was that about that other dragon! Is it mother?' he called over, accidentally pressing his side fan to the bars and getting a painful shock right to his ear. It was only inches away from his brain and he jerked away too fast from the bars, stumbling back from it, shaking all over. 'Dammit! What did you say about mother?!' He got his bearings again and roared at them for answers.

   “Hey there, Big Guy!” A deep but friendly female voice called, he whirled around to it snarling. “Somebody's a Grumpy Gus! Don't worry, I got your breakfast right here, Sweetheart,” she cooed. She had long black wavy hair, petite to the point of _tiny_ , she was all of 5 foot 2. Even so, at a glance, he knew not to mess with her. Behind her was a stretcher with a cow's carcass draped over it. Blood and viscera dripped from the sides and her apron was covered in it but she had a friendly smile as she wheeled it into the outer cage door. Closing it behind her. She had a small black thing in her hand and waved it at him. “Know what this is?”

   He shook his head after inspecting it a little closer, sniffing at her through the bars. She smelled amiable, nice.

   “So you are smart. This is a don't-touch-the-trainer box.” she waved it again. “You touch me, get too close, or if I feel threatened in any way, I shock you senseless. Ok Sweetie? Just here to feed you, not start World War 3.”

   He nodded slowly at her. She seemed decent enough, and the terms were definitely acceptable if it meant getting food today. She must not have gotten the memo from Azazel that he wasn’t to be fed. He'd just have to eat it fast enough and leave no trace behind for evidence. He didn't want either of them getting in trouble. He backed up to the furthest corner and she grinned widely at him. “Okie Dokie!” she then hit some numbers on a thing outside of his door and the inner doors opened. Trapping her inside with him. Even if he managed to make it past her, there were the other set of doors blocking his freedom. He lowered himself entirely. Trying to look as harmless as possible as she struggled to dump the cow carcass off of the cart. Dean was about to get up to help but she held up the box at him and frowned. He nodded and backed down instantly and dipped his head. She grinned again, knowing that his intentions were good, pure, but protocol insisted he stay back. She was satisfied with his actions and managed to get the rest of it off of the stretcher with a wet plop. “Thank you, Sugar.” She said and he was grateful for not being called a 'good boy'. “Maybe later today I can sneak you a snack. How does that sound?”

   He liked her already. Just knowing that 'snack' meant something different then 'treat', when it was coming from her. Something that wasn't demeaning to his intelligence. He gave it a shot and signed, 'pie'.

   She stopped wiping off her stretcher table and looked at him quizzically. “Sorry, I don't know sign language. They teach you that?”

   He shook his head then cocked it. He lifted up his hand and made a motion towards his back. Like someone from his past. He pointed to the guard towers where the light was on last night and shook his head forcefully.

   “So, not Mr. Azazel,” Dean put a finger to his nose like in charades. “Someone from your past?” Another quick nod.

   “Who owned you before?”

   Dean grumbled a little. This would be so much easier if she learned the Alpha Bet in sign. He inched closer, lifting up his eyebrows at her to show he wasn't trying anything dangerous, just needed to get to the patch of dirt between the metal bars on the ground. He waved his hand around against the sandy dirt, smoothing the surface and drew the triangle with the legs.

   “That's supposed to be the letter A?” Dean grinned, pleased that he did it right. He then made the hand sign for that letter. Then drew the picture of boobs that Sam showed him. “B.” he could hear the smile in her voice as he made that sign too. He started to just sign the rest, letting her follow along saying the Alpha Bet. He tripped up here and there but together he taught her the sign versions of the letters.

   The scent coming from her was nothing but excitement and anxiety but the good kind. He was feeling a little ball of happy in his chest too. _Finally_ a friend here. He stopped and looked all around suddenly. This is usually the part of his bad luck where they'd get caught. He gets tortured or she turns her back on him.

   She seemed to pick up on his nervousness, knowing that same look from all the new exhibits, and said, “Don't worry. It's just us trainers today. Mr. Azazel is out there somewhere trying to buy that other dragon.”

   Dean stood up quickly. Surprised and a mix of happy and fearful. He might be reunited with mother but then she'd be here in this crap hole too. He babbled in his own language for answers until he remembered himself and started to sign what he wanted to say, 'where mother?'

   “Slooow down there big guy, you only just taught me the sign language letters a few minutes ago. Start over, _slower_.”

   Dean huffed and slowed it way down. Nodding or shaking his head when she guessed the letters he was going for.

   “I didn't know she was your mother. Does he know?” a nod. “I wonder what he wants her for. Surely it's not to breed you two.” Dean pretended to throw up and growled towards the tower. “No doubt. I wouldn’t force you to do that. That's just... _Wrong_ on so many levels. A - incest. B - the world doesn’t need more monsters. No offense.” she amended.

   He shrugged at her, agreeing. He would have liked to have seen his siblings but the old life part of him knew that logically, more dragons would mean bigger problems for everyone. Their time came and went with the crusades. He had no idea why he and mother were even still around. Or if there were more. He hadn't spent that long with mother before Sam and Bobby found him. Just a kid. He still remembered her though. He grows so fast, both physically and mentally. He smirked at the fact that a month ago he wouldn’t have known what the word 'physically' meant. His thought processes were much simpler. He felt smarter now. However. Every time they shock him, he feels like he's slipping away. He was making such fast progress with his family, but now. This is the first time anyone's properly spoken to him since the separation from his family.

   He signed, 'dean.'

   “Dean? Who's Dean?” He pointed to himself. “Ah, well nice to meet you Dean, my name is Meg. Meg Novak. Uh, actually, not anymore. Getting a divorce now. Maiden name's Masters.”

   Dean decided to ignore the part of her name that implied ownership and held out his hand as if he were going to shake hers. She backed up a step and he sheepishly dropped it to the ground again, going so far as to back up into the far corner as well.

   “Sorry Sugar, you just uh, have quite a hand there. I bet my arm would just disappear in that and never come out!” Meg chuckled a little. He had an idea and slowly brought over his wing to her. Very _very_ slowly like approaching a wild animal, even though he fit the role better. She saw it approach. Knowing that at any moment he could hit her with it but he just let his wing thumb hover in the air in front of her. Dean wiggled it a little and Meg suddenly realized what it was meant to be. She held out her hand and shook his thumb. He gripped her hand back as gently as possible and together they made an exaggerated hand shake. He wanted to go for the cheese and kiss her hand too but that would be pushing it.

    “That was awesome.” Meg said, chuckling to herself. “You know, they warned all of us about you but you are just adorable.” She continued, ignoring the blush he felt on his cheeks. Add that to the list of things he didn't know he could do. “I only just started working here. My husband...  _EX_ -husband... he was obsessed with all things supernatural. Swore up and down that they existed. At first, I admit, I didn't believe him. I just let him do his thing and he let me do mine. Like us together, and his job were totally different sections in his life. He felt the need to keep me  _out_ of what he was passionate about. Maybe he thought it annoyed me. It didn't, but he didn't have to spend every moment...” she trailed off and started again, “We just, grew apart. I knew he loved me, but I just. I don’t know. Fell out of love with him. I still care about him deeply but, when I saw myself in the future, he wasn't there. I saw me still at my old job and him off writing papers and researching creatures instead of trying to fit in with society. He was always an odd duck. It was endearing. But Clarence was just too different for me after awhile. Too driven.” Meg shrugged and Dean shrugged too. Sometimes people just aren't meant to be together. Even if they love each other.

   “Anyway. I have like a million other things to feed.” She angled her stretcher cart towards the door again, pushing it through and Dean obediently stayed backed up from the door to make her feel safe around him. She gave a wave at him and he waved back. She shut the inner door, opened the outer one and left the way she came. He sat back down and sighed. That was cool. Even if she did nearly all of the talking, it was nice to have someone to be able to talk to.

   The rest of the day was just as boring as before lunch, and the night was quieter then the last. No thing wanted to bring back the wrath of the night guards again.

    The day after that, Azazel came back and the training started all over again. He reluctantly obeyed the commands but Azazel would just make them harder and harder to follow. Dean was a few seconds too slow in 'lay down' so he was shocked for it. His body would never heal if he was subjected to this constantly. The rest of that day and the next  _seven_ were nearly filled with commands and shocks. He started to loose himself in it. Believing that he was as stupid and useless as Azazel said. After awhile, he wanted to prove him wrong. Dean was  _not_ stupid. He could do the commands. Easy. Just watch. Sometimes, it would get to be too much, and he'd remember that Sam was coming for him. Sam didn’t think he was stupid, worthless. He didn’t need this asshole's praise to be good. He was awesome as is. His defiant streak didn't even last the night. His muscles all burned with residual aches and he hated himself for bringing this onto himself. He has one job here. One. Listen to orders. Sam will come. Sam  _has_ to come. He  _ promised. _

 

   Weeks passed.

 

   Every so often, he'd get this faraway look in his eyes and Azazel would pick up on it and punish him, not with pain but with words, “He's not coming for you. He forgot about you.” Other nights, the yellow eyed bastard would just sit outside his cage, talking. “Where is he now? Not here. You know, I can't even remember his name anymore. Been that long. But don't worry. You're wanted here. This is your home.”

   Azazel came over one day with a werewolf completely tied up and on a stretcher, splayed out. He dragged the stretcher into Dean's cage and Dean paced a little. Looking warily at the werewolf. She was the same one that howled and barked at him every day. He _hated_ this one.

   “Dean.” Azazel got his attention and Dean stopped pacing. “I want you to make an example of this dog for me. She has been disrespecting you, and you are mine and so she is disrespecting me. Therefore she broke one of our laws. She will have to face the consequences.” Azazel announced, turning to the other cages and had all eyes on him. “Kill her, and your training is complete. If you do not, you will be trained for another month without mercy.” Azazel moved the skin and bones werewolf closer to Dean who fidgeted in place. Looking quickly from the werewolf bitch and Azazel. Conflicted. Sure he wanted the training to end, his pain, torment from Alistair's blades and pliers. But this... this felt wrong.

   “Show her your claws and kill her, or the training will continue, and she will die anyway.” Azazel looked to his left and Dean saw Alistair suddenly standing there with a dagger. Silent as a predator waiting for the attack.

   Dean shifted slowly closer, the promise of no more pain. No more torture, no more training. The chance to inflict all that on something else. Something that deserved it. His head spun in that moment. Dean sidestepped, a pleading look in his eyes for him not to be asked to do this. Azazel frowned deeply at him. His hand was halfway raised for Alistair to approach when Dean gasped in fear. He rumbled at Azazel and nodded weakly when he got his attention. He slowly crept towards the werewolf who was openly weeping and trying to wriggle her way out of the ropes and chains. Her mouth was gagged and the look of sorrow and fear and begging in her eyes nearly made him buckle. He looked down to her stomach instead of her face and somewhat convinced himself that this was a mercy to her. He would be far more kind in killing her then Alistair. He trembled but then held his breath, taking one last look towards his masters and then to the werewolf.

   He forced a growl out of his mouth and replayed every instant of his own torture and her torment towards him. He lifted up one hand, claws curled and slammed it down quickly into her stomach. Crippling the stretcher all the way to the ground under his massive weight. She twitched and jerked as blood poured and pooled from the impact and then trickled from her mouth and ears. She gasped through the gag just once before going utterly limp underneath his hand. He felt tears well up in his eyes and lifted his hand, saw the blood, and _relief_ flooded his system. It was done. No more torture. No more pain. He slammed his hand down again and again on the body. Smothering it in claws and scales, mixing it with the metal and padding of the stretcher until one was nearly indistinguishable from the other. He growled and roared at the mess. Cursing, spitting anger and nearly forgot himself as he was about to set fire to the mess.

   Azazel was distantly heard clapping and shouting praise and Dean darted a glance over to him. “Go ahead my boy! I turned off the smoke sensors for tonight. Burn the bitch with your hellfire!”

   Dean nodded gratefully at his master and used up every last ounce of his fire on the remains. Roaring and cursing as the blood scent filled the air, he lost himself to the frenzy and chomped off one of her legs and ripped it away from the hip. This felt so damned _good_! To give some of that pain he'd felt all those long weeks. Finally, a _release_. A _relief_. A real outlet for his anger. He kept on shooting fire until he was gasping and coughing for air himself. He panted and a grin formed on his lips. He wanted to do this again. Please let him do this again!

   Azazel cheered on as Alistair started clapping too. Azazel left the cage and closed it behind him. Leaving Dean to do what he wanted with the body. He decided to watch it burn and when nothing was left but black char and metal, he stood over it. A pride filling him up as much as the heat warmed his body.

   Half the zoo away, Meg was bawling into her coat as the flames lit up the area and smoke clouded the sky. “Dean... No...”

   Azazel came back to Dean's cage the next morning and sat down on the other side of the bars. A wide pleased grin that matched his scent greeted him as he woke. “You did so well. I am so proud of you. We love you here. You’re skill is unmatched, you don’t need anyone or anything else. Just listen to me and you'll do alright.” Azazel soothed, and Dean liked hearing for once that he was wanted. Weeks of saying how pathetic he was for being bad, and now, he was a _good boy_. He was given a special collar and he liked it. A gift. A reward. He was _wanted._ The outside of the collar stung him because of the silver coating but that was ok. He understands now that the silver is necessary to keep other monsters away from him. Not to hurt _Dean_ , but others that would want to hurt _him_.

   He grew another 7 feet tall since he found his home at the zoo, and he was going to be moved to an emptied pool where they originally kept dolphins. It was still too small for his body but at least he could stand and turn around again. It was his reward. The werewolf pack was now just a lone wolf cub, to young to have offended anyone. Sure it howled sometimes out of loneliness but Dean knew it would learn that rewards come from good behavior. It just needed time to adjust, time away from the other trouble making werewolves. Dean even insisted that Meg give the cub some of his dinner as a peace offering.

   Meg seemed different but he couldn’t place how or why. Just that she looked at him differently. Like she was sad but determined. Dean still liked her, and loved their time together. He just wanted to make her and master happy.

   Azazel kept Dean in a wide semi trailer while he had his men construct silver bars for the top of the pool and wired an electric grid over top that. Once in, Dean would not be able to come out easily. They'd have to detach the bars all together. But it was explained to him that it was for his protection as well from the other monsters should they try and gang up on him. Under where the waterline would be, was a viewing area for visitors of the old zoo. He saw just a simple office on the other side of the thick glass and someone working at one of the desks. He was the equivalent of a fish tank in an office. No matter, he would simply watch the office like _it_ was the fish tank instead of his pool. It was quickly becoming boring again, but at least he was eating better. _Two_ cows a day. _Awesome_. He was looking pretty thin lately. Bones protruding everywhere. Disgusting. Azazel was not pleased and wanted Dean to look his best.

   Azazel found out about Meg and Dean's chats and limited them to about twice a week instead. He wanted a happy pet and Meg was now his prize for being obedient. Dean was hardly shocked at all anymore. Azazel couldn't be more delighted. Dean was told Alistair left and he did not know how to feel about that. Alistair taught him a lot. Mostly how to be a good boy. But the methods he used... Dean decided not to decide how to feel about it and put it out of his mind. Meg took up that space and Dean fell asleep smiling.

   Meg learned the Alpha Bet better on her own and even started to teach Dean how to spell more words. He looked forward to their 10 minute chats. He spoke mostly of what he did the days they didn’t meet and she seemed sad at that. He never understood why, so he'd always change the topic back to her. There was a pain in his chest when he realized that she obviously couldn’t stand to listen to his daily events. He was a sad pathetic monster after all. Why should she be subjected to his stupid life anyway. It was boring and stupid. Like him. He would much rather listen to her talk about her life. He even said as much and took great care in giving her the attention she deserved.

    She would never tell him, but it depressed her to see him so  _broken_ . Desperately  _lonely_ . And she couldn’t do a thing to help. His self confidence was next to nothing now. Even if she did try to boost it, Azazel would just have to 'train' him out of it again. That involved too many horrendous deeds for her stomach. Meg wanted him to be happy. He must want an escape from his dull life and started to talk about her own. It seemed to cheer him up. 

   Meg talked about how she came to be working for Mr. Azazel. The night she left her Ex, she admitted drugging him and taking all of her stuff. She thought it would be easier for him to deal then to have tear filled arguments and bargaining. Dean didn’t understand but let her ramble. Apparently while packing up, one of Clarence’s friends kept calling about finding some monster in the woods close to Freedersville. She wasn't interested at first but when she got to her brother's house she did some searching and found more evidence proving it then disproving. She followed the leads, intrigue pushing her forward and someone on some 'hunters' page she ran across was asking for new hire's for this facility. She jumped at the chance and was hired just as Dean was being hunted down at Bobby's house. Meg was flabbergasted that she was now able to see that same kind of monster that she heard about a month ago.

   Dean's brow furrowed. 'what day?' he signed up to her.

    “What day is it? Today is...” she checked her cell phone. “November 2 nd . Why. You got a  _hot_ date?” she winked at him. 

    'har har'. He signed with a deadpan look. He paused and looked down at his feet. 'November 2 nd . Why did that ring a bell? It was important. Like.  _Really_ important. But what the hell was it?' he mumbled to himself.

   “You ok?”

   He nodded absently and signed, 'its nothing', and shrugged. It gnawed at him for the rest of the day after she left. He dreamed of fire that night, and this time, he knew it wasn't his own. It was on the ceiling of his cage. He thought he saw wisps of yellow strands, white cloth with a red slash through it. He could almost make out the details but he woke too soon. Panting hard and heart pounding. He noticed that his cheeks were wet and had no idea why. He shot looks all around himself, ending up looking up at the bars that covered his empty pool and saw only scattered clouds and stars overhead. Another nagging feeling tugged at his mind but he forgot why stars were so important. They're just dots in the sky. Nothing interesting.

   He yawned again, and after his heart calmed down, he slept fitfully. An echo of a voice he was quickly forgetting. 'and that's Cassiopeia.' the voice said, an impression of a hand pointed upwards, his gaze following. Then nothing.

 

 

   “He's right over here.”

   Dean perked a side fan and lifted a tired eyelid. There was something being dragged or banged on all damned morning. He ignored it. Doesn’t _ever_ concern him.

   “Do you have the contact's name? Are they here?”

   “Uh, no Sir. Meg Masters is the contact and she is at the head office already, filling out the paperwork.”

   Dean listened in a little more, what did they want with his friend?

   “That will take some time.” A chuckle. “Ah, here he is. The big kahuna himself.” A knock on the glass wall separating the small office from his tank cage. He lifted his head and turned to look at them head on.

   “Big is right. You sure we can haul it?”

   An appraising look and suddenly the lights all around his cage lit up, he blinked at them, squinting against the glare. “Yeah. I think so. Just need to drug him up before we haul him on up and out. We can use the crane.”

   “Sir, Ms. Masters said he was tame. He knows how to follow orders.”

   “Maybe with his old owner but not with us, he probably thinks we're the enemy invaders.”

   The notion didn’t cross Dean's mind until he said that. 'Where is Meg? Who are these guys? Whats going on?' he got to a stand and even though the others were behind glass, they backed up a step. He took the chance and stomped forward. Growling at them. 'Who the fuck are you?' he roared at them. They regained some sense of sanity and laughed at themselves.

   “Impressive. Nicely protective. Even though I read the reports Meg first sent us. He'd been tortured for 3 months by these assholes and now he's like an obedient guard dog for them. He's perfect. We just need to figure out how to get him on our side and bam. Our job's half done.”

   “Sir, if I may.”

   The other one put a hand to the glass and Dean snarled at it.

   “Sir, we still have to let the science department have him first. Azazel hired a man named Alistair to do his sample testing, and those samples haven’t been recovered yet. He probably took them when he ran. Now we have a whole zoo filled with monsters and this one.” A hand gestured at Dean. “I know we came for the dragon but, what do you want me to do with the others?”

   His boss lowered his brow at him, despite the underling being taller. “What do you think? Have our guys take blood samples of all of them and then bury them in that field we saw out back.” A pause, then, “Oh right, our hunter allies insisted that we burn monsters. The only way to be sure they're dead. There's some guidebook or whatever in the office Azazel was using. A 'how to' manual for dealing with each kind of monster. Silver works on most of them. Some though, are some crazy ass things involved. Just cut them up till there's nothing left and burn the pile. Hard to rise from ashes.” he looked back to Dean and smirked. “Could have this one burn them for us. I heard his naturally produced flame accelerator is like flaming acid. Like Greek Fire. It will burn no matter what.

   They both looked to Dean and he snarled right back. He may not be besties with the monsters here but there were quite a few innocents. Like the Skin walkers. He had a soft spot for them because they weren't inherently evil. He tried sign language to tell them to spare the Skin walkers but they'd already left the room, discussing how to haul the dragon up and out of the pool after they sedate him.

   He pressed his face against the glass to follow their movements but quickly lost them. He paced back and forth. His owner was in the wind. He abandoned them. He said he _wouldn’t_. He _left_. Everyone leaves. _Where's Meg_? Is she alright? Did she do this? Make the boss go away? How could she? But she is a friend. She said so.'

   His thoughts spiraled out of control as he paced, getting more and more worked up by the strange sounds coming from above his pool. He wanted to look up and out but the electrified bars kept him from getting too close. Every time he gets shocked he can almost feel himself disappearing. Becoming more like an animal. He can't tell them this. It might have made Azazel shock him _more_. He wanted a pet. He has one now. Or did. He would if he were still here. Dean would have made a good pet. Maybe the boss wants him to come to him? Get rid of these intruders and find him? That's what a good pet would do.

   Dean looked to each of the four sensors that could tell when he was using his flame. He practiced for a minute to see if he could set them on fire before the floor was shocked and he was punished. Without someone to turn off the electricity, he would die if he didn't get this right the first time. He turned in a circle around his pool. Hardly big enough for him to move anymore. He was getting quite large compared to the humans. They only stood as tall as his elbow now. He somehow knew he'd be full grown by now if he'd gotten bigger meals while he was still young, but the lack of food equals lack of size. He had only grown a few inches the last week. He doubted he'd get much taller then his current 26 foot height. Meg was the only person that was allowed in his cage besides boss, and she would measure him every week. Azazel wasn’t happy he wasn't as tall as his mother, but, boss didn't feed him enough. Every time Dean asked for more food he was shocked. So he simply stopped asking. His body slowly adapted and he stayed short.

   More movement above him caught his eye. A very very large metal thing was moving over his pool and something dangled from its long arm. The thing lowered down and he heard some shouting orders to turn off the electricity. Others shouting back to sedate the dragon first. More shouts that he could discern and he growled at them to tell him what's going on. A few stood to one side of his pool where he knew there was a platform and looked down at him. One took notes, another photos and another was talking on a phone to someone. A fourth joined in and had a rifle slung over his shoulder. Dean didn't pay it much attention. Guns don't work on him. His hide is nearly impenetrable to regular bullets even high caliber rounds. A needle or blade however... He noticed that everyone here now wore camouflage gear and a word from old life popped into his head and said they were 'soldiers', to which Dean snorted. Big whoop. He was still the biggest bad to ever walk the earth. These small things are no match for him.

   He growled low at them and the rifle soldier aimed it down at him. More words mumbled between them and Dean heard and felt the sting of the thing hit him in his cheek. He jerked back from it and bellowed at the men. Something just barely seen was sticking out of the spot where he was hit. Something that looked like an orange fluffy ball. He brought his hand up and easily knocked it out of his cheek, bending down to sniff at it and ignoring the now growing crowd overhead. It smelled funny. He cocked his head and looked up again, picking up on the conversation.

   “You idiot, normal tranquilizers wont work on freckles here. You gotta use the plant extract that Meg was talking about. It knocks him out instantly like morphine if it gets into his bloodstream.”

   “Yes, sorry. He just, spooked me.” The rifleman said hastily and left Dean's view.

   “Rookies. Where do they find these kids?”

   “I believe this is only his second time dealing with supernatural monsters. He's a bright kid, just needs to read up on monsters.”

   “If you say so.” the older one said dubiously. He went back to his phone and was typing something in.

   Dean started to pace again. He looked to the orange fluffy thing and wondered if he could shoot it at those men before they notice anything. Nevermind that. He has to get those sensors down so he can use his flames on these intruders. He practiced once more and took a breath, readying his flame and took out three sensors in one quick twisting turn of his head but the fourth went off before he could take it down next. The electric current running through the bars under his feet was agony and he cried out, screeching for it to stop. He crumbled in on himself and distantly heard lots of yelling and commotion then suddenly the pain stopped and he laid there, panting. Eyes watering and jaw slack. His body felt so dense. Unresponsive. Scorched. From the inside. He could take fire and white hot coals on the outside like it was a comfy warm blanket but this. This hurt like hell. He could see shadows of at least two dozen of them along the wall of his pool. More shouting. It was getting fuzzy around the edges. Lightheaded. After a moment, he felt another sting on his body. Another orange fuzzy ball. This one numbed him in that spot and he could feel the glorious numbing agent at work, disseminating out like a soothing hand along his nerves and aching muscles. He drifted in his own mind and gazed impassively at the men as they buzz sawed the bars from the top of his cage. Sparks shot out from the spinning thing as it severed the metal from the edge. So pretty. Like fireworks. The light twinkled over him as his eyelids sagged.

   He would have been able to escape easily if he'd just had the strength to stand. He squirmed a little, but as soon as the calm hand of peace spread to his legs, they were useless. His wings were last to feel it. Further from the source in his neck. They flapped a few times, brushing against the metal bars above on accident but he felt no shock, just the burn of the silver. It left an angry mark along his wing membrane and he lowered it all the way. Partially covering up with it like a security blanket.

   Another sharp bite hit him over his heart. He startled and then absolute calm spread faster throughout his whole massive body. His head was already angled towards his chest and he saw another one of those damned fuzzy orange balls sticking out. His wing shuffled a little. Unable to move it before it fell limp and he breathed raggedly for a few long seconds. They managed to find the spot where his scales never quite recovered after the bear attack so long ago. It still bore a shade more reddish the the surrounding area. The heart shot was with a much longer, sharper needle and punctured right through his scales, deep into muscular tissue. He felt himself fading out, down into the dirt. Sinking _through_ the dirt. Heading for the warmth of deep earth. The herb mixture did its job quickly and effectively and he was out before he knew it.

   The next time he woke, he was surprised he even woke up at all. He thought that the intruders would surely try and kill him once they got him. But. He felt alright. More then alright. The collar around his neck that Azazel gifted him with was gone and took with it the silver that lined the outside of it. Keeping him from pulling it off. It burned whenever he forgot about it and his hands still showed the black charred marks. He almost missed it. He swallowed a few times. His throat felt dry and his eyes were sticky. He felt the floor underneath him but did not feel any bars. Dean moved a little and was happy to note there was no more silver or electricity powered bars anywhere. Everything was concrete and iron. He would have laughed but he was able to turn his head and look around at the rest of his surroundings. Crap. Another cage. This one was slightly larger but still too small for him to stretch out fully. He had gotten used to that by now. He was just too big for the biped world. He turned his head again when he heard beeping and men talking. The sounds gradually getting louder as he figured he was coming out of his drug induced coma.

   “Hey there, Sunshine.” A friendly voice spoke up. His eyes shot open and he looked around frantically. Trying to find the source but getting lightheaded at the sudden movement. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and squinted hard. “Over here big guy.” the happiness in the tone soothed him instantly.

   His squinting gaze landed on the one person who stayed with him. He signed happily, 'Meg!' and tried to get to his feet. She saw him struggle and walked faster over to him. Putting her hand onto his and urging him to lay back. He did so after wrapping his hand around her whole body and gently squeezing, lovingly. She patted his forefinger and thumb and he let go. All around he could hear men talking urgently, guns clacking to attention, the others worried for her safety. Nonsense. She was safest with him then with these soldiers. He thought of telling them that but Meg spoke up, “You ok? I'm sorry I couldn't be there for the extraction. It was a whole hell of a lot of work getting you out of there. Azazel skipped town the second he got wind of the raid. We haven't found him yet.”

   Dean signed, 'you ok?' and she smiled at him and told him she was fine. 'worried.'

   “Yeah, I know, I know and I'm sorry I didn't tell you what we were planning. I knew you'd be upset and I couldn't take that. I'm sorry I left.”

   Dean shrugged a shoulder and smiled at her, 'you r ok.'

   “ _We're_ ok. You are gonna be just fine. These nice people are just gonna take some samples today.”

   Dean squinted at her. 'What does she mean? Samples? Like _Alistair_ took samples?!' He got uneasily to his feet and backed away, only now noticing that his hind feet were chained together. Panic started to surge through his veins and he whipped his head around to bite at the restraints, finding that his wings were also bound around his sides, just like before. He looked all around and more soldiers came forward, raising guns, rifles, that orange fuzz shooting gun. He didn't know if he should try to run, fight, fly, protect Meg or see her as a traitor.

   “Calm down! It's ok guys, put the guns away, he's just a little worked up. Sweetie! Calm down!” She had one hand up to him for him to back down and the other for the soldiers to back down. He looked at her, shortest one here and she was standing like she was holding back two forces of nature.

   Dean backed away, running into the cage wall and slid down it. Eyes still darting everywhere, just waiting for the attack. He was surrounded on all sides and he couldn’t even use his fire because Meg was in the way. He tongued at his teeth real quick and grumbled to find those caps over his sparker teeth again. These felt more permanent. Tasted like ass. Dammit. Who told them to do that? Azazel left before they arrived. Another quick look around and he only recognized Meg from the zoo. _No_. She _wouldn't._

   'u told them to cap teeth?' he signed, chest heaving, eyes wide. He felt dizzy. She _betrayed_ him. She was a friend! She isn't on his side at all. He's alone again. So alone. Alone and surrounded by the enemy. What can he do against so many? What else did Meg tell them? How worthless he was? Useless? Pathetic?

   Dean curled into himself. Torment and hurt thrashing about in his mind. He whimpered, not bothering with signing, 'I trusted you. I trusted you Meg. You were supposed to be my friend. You stole me from my home. You sold me. How could you?'

   She took a few steps forward. “Sweetie, you ok?”

   He covered up his head with both hands. Trying to hide from his shame and her betrayal. He didn't care that the soldiers were now sniggering and laughing outright at his pain. Let them. He doesn’t care any more.

   Meg was talking to the soldiers, “Would you _back off_! Can't you see he's upset! Leave him alone!”

   “How the hell did you manage to find a _dragon_ and then turn it into this pussy?”

    “He wasn't like this before... it's only because Azazel and Alistair are the biggest assholes on the planet! They didn't only torture him physically they tortured him mentally! They  _broke_ him. They broke his body, they broke his mind, they even broke his  _spirit_ . I tried to undo the damage but...” her voice trailed off and Dean knew she was looking at him. “I couldn't save him.” she ended, nearly a whisper. “Sweetie...  _I'm so sorry_ .”

   A few moments passed, most of the soldiers and men in white coats standing around left to give their honored guest some space. Time to adjust.

   Dean calmed down a little. Once the adrenaline wore off a little he could think clearer. He mumbled to himself, 'I'm fine. I'm fine. Fine. I'm ok.' in a mantra until he was able to look the traitor in the face again. He lifted up his hand. Made good and well sure that she was watching and signed the last thing he would ever sign to her. 'I hate you.'

   She tried to approach him again but he just growled low and threatening at her. She kept on walking and he hissed. She slowed and stopped. His growl so powerful it reverberated the ground she stood on. She had no doubt that if she took another step closer, he _would_ kill her. Friend or no, he saw her as something worse then the enemy. At least with an enemy, you knew they weren’t to be trusted.

   She wiped off her face, tears falling unhindered down her cheeks and she said, “Ok. I'm sorry I couldn't... Just... I hope you find happiness one day.” Another quick swipe of her cheeks, “At least I got you out of that hell hole.” Meg said more or less to herself. “I hope one day you forgive me for not doing it sooner... before...” she sniffed and straitened up, “Goodbye, Dean.” she turned around and walked away. Heels clacking unevenly on the concrete floor. Her sobs echoing down the hall and out of the double doors.

   Dean stared after her for a long time. Half expecting her to come back. She didn't.

   His heart broke.

 _Everyone_ leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (On a personal note, it was also very hard for me to finish edit this because I was having extreme trouble at work on Sunday, being tormented by a coworker *bitch*. It got to the point where I made a post on Facebook when I got home and a friend of mine actually came over within minutes for suicide watch. So yeah... I'm much much better now. Calmed down. and my boss swears that I'll never have to work with her again. Which is awesome. Got a nice 3 day weekend out of it.  
> Depression is a bitch. But kind words helped me get through this. Honestly. So Thank you!  
> Sorry for my rant! Now that this chapter is finally done, I can get to the Cas and Dean part of the story. The heart. )


	10. And the Flames went Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sold and sold again. Dean is just making friends all over!  
> Castiel's new job position is far more exciting and unexpected then anything he ever experienced before. Right now he just hopes that he can hold it together when he finally comes face to snout with the object he's been after for months.

Chapter Ten:

And the Flames went Higher

 

 

 

   “Bobby! I get it alright! I get it! We haven't found him in three and a half months. But I am not going to just accept that he's probably dead. I can't, _I can't,_ I wont.. he's not dead. He's not.” Sam paced back and forth angrily in front of Bobby in his wheelchair. “I will not accept anything that even remotely suggests that he's dead. I wont. We finally found Azazel's fuckin' zoo and just because it's empty doesn’t mean that Dean was killed.”

   “Son, there was a pile of burned and buried monsters. You don't think for a minute that they wouldn't do that to a dragon too? Listen. I hate myself for even suggesting it... but whoever took over the zoo obviously had it in for monsters. Not a single one left alive.” Bobby wiped off his face and put his truckers cap back on, bill lowered a little to hide his eyes from Sam as he paced back and forth. Angry strides eating up the space between study, kitchen and den.

   “But they didn't find him.” Sam stopped and pointed an accusing finger at Bobby. “They didn't find anything as big as Dean in that mass grave.”

   “So he wasn't buried there.” Bobby lifted up his arms and let them fall back to the armrests. “Son, they didn't leave _anything_ alive. They even killed harmless creatures. They killed the hundred head of cattle Azazel was raising that fed all of them. Paranoid bastards. Some hunters are merciless when it comes to the supernatural, like that psychopath Gordon. You get that right? Look at it from their point of view. Whoever raided that zoo wanted _everything_ in it dead. You might have to come to terms that Dean's body is in a different grave.”

   Sam shook his head, hair flying about and settling when Sam's frustration also included his hair for making this seem comical. He'd do as Dean said and chopped it all off but that wouldn't help matters at all. If Dean did come back he might not recognize Sam without his traditional mop. Sam wondered what the hell kind of track his mind was currently taking that brought him to that notion and shook his head again. Trying to focus in on the problem. Dean's still missing. The zoo was a bust. Dean was there at one point. In two separate cages. A silver lined fuckin' birdcage and an emptied pool. Probably when he got too big for the condor cage. When they'd gotten to the zoo, a week had already passed by, but they could still smell the distinct scent of burned bodies in the air. It was nauseating and disgusting. Every cage had some kind of chemical sprayed from top to bottom. Getting rid of every trace of monster DNA. Whatever the chemical compound was would no doubt contaminate any sample found to save the public from discovering or proving the existence of monsters. Sam found some documents online, after extensive searching, for a demolition order of that zoo due to structural damage.

   Sam and Bobby scoured the entire zoo for any trace of Dean. Finally finding it laying innocuously at the bottom of that dolphin pool. A silver collar with the name, “Freckles” embossed on it. Claw marks gouged too deep into the concrete proved that something enormous had been kept there. No monster besides Dean or his dragon mother could have left marks that huge. Unless this was a re-creation of Jurassic park. Sam spent two days in the pool and searching the zoo for any clue as to who took his brother from there. Who the fuck was responsible for stealing his brother just days before he found out where he was kept. So close to saving him. After months of endless searching. Only to be a few days late. He found out about the zoo almost by accident. Searching for anyone that was buying massive amounts of cattle that did not live on a farm or ranch. That search took up the most time and might have been pointless if Azazel had chosen to feed Dean sheep or some other animal. Cows seemed more economical. Dean would have had to eat hundreds of thousands of chickens to live, and sheep were not as common in the states as cows. Azazel couldn’t exactly fish for Dean either, needing the equivalent of a dolphin sized fish every day _at least_. Fish hatcheries proved a bust, easily checked out in a day along with the lack of massive sheep or goat sales. Dean loved to hunt deer but it was very unlikely that Azazel would bother with trying to hunt them down on a daily basis. Never mind letting Dean go hunt for himself. Out of the question. Wild boar are plentiful down in the southern states but they are harder to catch and kill then deer are. Dean probably would have loved to hunt them.

   Sam rubbed his face and ran fingers through his hair again. Bobby had to leave to the kitchen to answer his ringing FBI phone again. He listen absently as Bobby bitched out a hunter named Garth for not calling the _real_ FBI.

   Sam huffed a laugh. All kinds of hunters out there. He desperately needed back up in the actual tracking down part of finding Dean, but with Bobby's recovery taking a downward spiral it looked like he would be in that wheelchair for at least a year. If not longer. They both refused to accept _that_ possibility and threw themselves completely into searching for Dean instead. Sam had actually bought a surveillance drone and would drive to potential locations and scout out the area with it. If Dean was kept inside or underground the drone couldn't do a thing to help. If Sam had just found the zoo earlier, the drone could have easily seen Dean in either the condor cage or the pool from above. He was _right there_. Right there all along. Dean was alive all this time. Waiting. The evidence of torture hung from every inch of those cages. Electrified wire grid next to bars coated in silver. Each holding cage far too small for something as big as Dean. He would have been hunched over and uncomfortable the entirety of those 3 months. Never being able to stretch out fully.

   Sam wanted to kill something. Dean was _tortured_. Sam and Bobby were able to break into that underground veterinarian room that was converted into a perfect dragon torturing chamber. The chains still attached to the floor, claw marks littering the areas where his hands and feet were pinned down. More chains hung from the ceiling. Burn marks all along the floor proved that it was _Dean_ because they knew what his fire marks looked like versus other char marks. Bobby found a muzzle that was crafted specifically for his massive head, was laying in a heap off the side of a table that must have served as a sadistic tool table. Scratches from heavy equipment, a broken test tube that had fallen to the wall on the other side. Missed by whomever cleaned the place of DNA evidence. A fireman’s outfit in the closet, and the other low laying table was dented to all hell from something huge. Probably Dean slamming his head into it after breaking free of the chains that must have held his head and neck down to it. It took a hot minute to piece together what must have happened with all of the things strewn about in that hellish enclosure.

   Sam lost it in that room. Throwing everything that wasn’t tied down. Shooting both tables repeatedly, unconcerned about the ricocheting bullets, and turned medieval on the table that held the tools used to torture his brother. He kept going on the tirade until Bobby's shouting and warnings finally cut through the grief and rage that Sam felt. Sam collapsed to the floor. Crawling over to where Dean's body was chained down and wept for hours. He was too late. His brother suffered because Sam wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, clever enough to find him, save him, rescue him.

   So fuckin' _close_ to having his family back. Only to be a few days too late.

   Now, Dean was probably being tortured all over again by someone else's hands.

   Bobby's house had a malignant aura around it, feelings of loss, stress, guilt, rage all mingling together and making both men sick to their stomachs. Sam growled to himself and went to find out where Bobby was hiding his whiskey again. He knew logically he could just go out and buy some for himself but he didn't feel like facing any civilians right now. Crap. The only thing left that Bobby had in his cupboards was wine. Fancy bottle. Old vintage. Must be important to the old hunter. Better not drink it just because he needs a fix. Sam wanted to punch something. No, not something. _Someone_. A _specific_ someone. He stormed out the door and stomped across the yard to the Impala. 'Azazel. Fucking _bastard._ Fucking coward. Come and face me!' He wanted to shout to the heavens. So he did. His wrath, heartache, pain, fury, grief, taking its toll on him. He pulled out the keys to the Impala and got behind the wheel just as Bobby got to the porch.

   “Hey! Sam! Don't forget to get _food_ as well as your liquid antidepressant!” Bobby shouted angrily. Sam wasn't thinking clearly and could crash his car. “And buckle up ya idjit! Don't need to start wheelchair races around here. Got enough wheels on the property, I better not see another rig rolling around here like mine.”

   Sam huffed a humorless laugh at that. “Right. I gotcha.” he gave a quick wave and slammed his door shut after falling into the drivers seat. He hated that because Dean had driven the Impala for so many years, it was more fit for Dean's form. His old one. Bowlegs and all. The seat cushion wasn't quite right for Sam. Another reminder that the Impala's rightful driver wasn't here anymore. Well... _not yet_. His mind filled in with a dash of hope.

   He drove away, mind racing and accusing. Blaming himself almost more then Azazel. If it wasn't Azazel then some other hunter might have gotten his brother. Like whoever it was that got the mother.

   Wait... Hold up... All this time he was searching for Dean he didn't think about going after the mother. Holy _shit_. What if the same guys that got the mother all those months ago decided to make a matching set? Hot damn!

   The Impala's tires screamed at him as he spun around too sharply, nearly careening off of the road. He breathed hard for a few seconds. Getting his bearings again and then stomped on the gas to get back to Bobby's house. He had another lead to search for.

 

* * *

 

   Dean didn't sleep that first night. Too nervous when the torture would start anew. Several night guards paced around the huge warehouse he was being kept in and would sometimes stop and stare at him. One took pictures on his cell. Dean covered up his head by tucking it under his left wing. It was tricky to maneuver because both wings were tied to his belly, he just had enough room for his head up to the horns. Like a long necked bird sleeping with its head under a wing.

   He inched his head out until he could spy on them and noted that no one had even come close since Meg left. That was a relief at least. Meg did say they needed samples. But. Would they be as painful as Alistair's methods? He shivered and closed his eyes tight when he couldn’t take it anymore. The anticipation, the dread, the waiting. This new open space, but he was still in a cage too small for him. On top of all that, he couldn’t even flex his wings or splay his back legs out. They probably didn't want him able to run if he did manage to get out of this cage within a cage. Just as well. He has nowhere to go. He overheard someone saying that the zoo was fully cleaned of the supernatural and Dean said an apology to the harmless ones. The Skin walkers of course, the strange young girl that was dubbed, 'Princess'. The werewolf cub. Probably more that he could not see from either of his pens. Those things were innocent. They didn't deserve that fate.

   Dean sighed unhappily and eased a little more onto the ground. He longed for a proper bed. Something not concrete. His elbows and feet took the brunt of his weight while he lay, and those areas were thicker then the other parts of his scales. He laid onto his side to lessen the pressure a little. Loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about being shocked by just brushing against the walls or ceiling. The floor was also devoid of the metal bars so at least it was a flat surface, not hard and bumpy. He imagined that since he grew up sleeping on that hard surface that he could sleep anywhere, hell, give him nails aimed upwards from the ground and he could sleep like a baby. No wait. Don't. That doesn’t actually sound comfortable.

   “So you are the baby boy?” A female voice said.

   Dean untucked his head and looked impassively at her. Waiting for her to give up a clue or reason why she was bothering him.

   “They said you could understand English. That true?” She angled her head, lifting a hand to his cage. “Did you want to talk?”

   Dean just looked at her. He didn't have to answer any questions. They could do what they wanted, when they wanted. Giving him the illusion of choice just to take it away would be predictably cruel so he just started out playing dumb. Maybe she'll get bored and go away.

   She sighed and walked closer to his head. “Well, I just wanted to say that I will try and make your stay as painless as possible.”

   Dean snorted at that. Whoops.

   A grin spread on her lips. He can understand her. “No really! I know what happened to you at the zoo. That wasn't right what they did. You deserved better then that. Hell a dog deserves better.”

   Dean grumbled. Why does everyone want to compare him to a dog? He is much better then a dog. And there's her true colors. She thinks he's about equal to a canine. Well... she isn't wrong. He laid his head down away from her but she just jogged on over to face him again. He squinted at her. Annoying little biped. Take a picture.

   “When we study you. It wont be painful.”

   He lifted up a lip at her, showing off his fangs but not growling. Showing instead his distrust and disagreement to her statement. Of course it will hurt. It always hurts. Everything hurts. Hell, the only thing that didn't all this time were his chats with Meg and even she turned out to be a traitor. Her siding with these guys led to the mass murder of all of those creatures at the zoo and his kidnapping. The 'I don't believe you.' needed not be said out loud or signed to be heard and understood.

   “One day. I promise. You'll see that we are the good guys.” she grinned and put a hand to his cage.

   If he chose, he could jump at her and bite off her arm or even kill her within seconds. He actually considered it. His mouth salivated and he looked at her arm. She let it fall back to her side slowly, as if she saw what he was thinking too. He ultimately decided against killing her. For the sole reason that he himself would be punished for it or even killed, not because he valued her life. She's the _enemy._ Part of the group that has no qualms about killing and kidnapping. And she wants him to do what exactly? Trust them? Forget about it. No way in hell. He doubts he could trust anyone again. Too many betrayals to count.

   He dropped his head to the ground again. His eyes closed and he sighed heavily in defeat. He didn't care anymore. Everything he cares about leaves him. Everyone. If he gave a shit about this lady, then they'd use her against him. If he cared if he ate that day, then they'd starve him to get him to do something. Azazel did that often enough. His stomach ached now. But. Who cares? What does he have to live for anyway? He's never going to be free again. Never going to see his mother. Her memory, as brief as it was, was still powerful in his mind. Maybe it was because she was the only one like him. All these bipeds kinda melt into each other. Getting harder to distinguish differences. He usually would just give up and identify them by the obvious.

   Two other faces flashed in front of him again. A tall man and a shorter one. He keeps seeing memories of them but they get fuzzy whenever he presses the memories to play out. Something Alistair did... erased them. There was a time in that training room, bits and pieces like scattered stones. Something about needles and electricity and a series of sharp headaches and then white blankness. Not black. Black mean's he passed out or was asleep. The white disturbed him more. Because there should have been something there... and now there wasn't. All he remembers now is those fragments and mother and the rest of his time with his master.

   At some point the lady must have left because she wasn’t in front of him when he opened up his eyes. Oh well. He felt a pressure on his arm and he jolted upright, looking down at her touching him with both her hands. His shocked noise jolted her as well and she backed up quickly. He looked to where she had touched and saw some kind of paste there. He sniffed at it and noticed that it was over top of one of his open wounds. He licked at it and she held up her hands.

   “Wait! Don't move it. It's alright there. It's ok. It's just antibiotic cream with aloe. It's nontoxic and organic. You had a nasty cut and it went down too deep. I didn't want you getting sick.” her hands were still up and covered with the same creamy stuff.

   It tasted weird as he took another tentative taste. His tongue felt a little numb and he detected a trace of that herb that everyone loves to use on him. But, this didn't knock him out. It just, felt... kinda _nice_. It was such a small amount it wasn’t meant to make him unconscious. Just to dull the pain in the wound. He squinted at it then turned his gaze to her. Why the hell did she care if he bled? Alistair would have just made the hole bigger and taken samples of the muscle tissue and healing scar tissue. This would have been a perfect opportunity to do the same. He was told they wanted samples. 'Well here it is.' He thought sarcastically.

   He licked off the rest of the cream and she sighed at him. Not outright frustrated but close. He looked at his wound again and then back to her. No way would he accept help from them. If he got too comfortable with the help, they'd just take it away again. If he starts and ends with nothing anyway, what's the point of trying? The point in fooling him into thinking that they give a damn about him? He doesn't need anyone.

   She could see a glimpse of his personality and said, “You can accept someone else's help you know. We are here to help you.”

   He wanted to say, 'Then let me go.' but that would just fall on deaf ears and blind eyes if he signed it. Besides, where would he go? That thought kept circling around his head during the long hours that night. And now, here was some girl thinking she could fool him into thinking he had a chance. Stupid.

   He pulled in his legs and tail, making it obvious that he wasn’t going to allow her access to anymore cuts and wounds. If she wanted to do more she's gonna have to... Dean's thoughts faltered. Do what exactly? Work harder to heal him? Hurt him? Gain his trust and use it against him? Dean didn’t want to think about it anymore and growled at her until she held up her hands defensively and backed off. He was left alone for the rest of that day as well.

   The next morning he wasn't so lucky.

   “Alright!” a loud powerful sounding voice called out into his warehouse, echoing off of the walls as a stream of people flowed in the speaker's wake. “Now that you're all well rested and adjusted, it's time to get down to business.”

   Dean looked placidly at him. His thoughts raced though, betraying his resolve from yesterday to feel nothing and expect nothing but the worst.

   The lead soldier man clapped his hands together and all of the other regular soldiers looked at him expectantly. Some wore white coats but the feeling of soldier basically bled from their skin. The scent was everywhere. This was their unit and they worked as one. Dean detected more of that herb scent coming from white coats. He lifted up his lips to them especially. He remembered himself and let them drop, laying his head low to look at lead soldier in the eyes at his level. Bipeds didn't like it when he looked down at them even though he couldn't help it. They only came up to his elbow for crying out loud. He was laying down now so it wasn't quite so awkward. But, keeping his 12 foot long neck and head parallel to the ground made his shoulders ache so he just let it drop to the ground tiredly.

   “It does understand English right?”

   Dean was so tired of that question.

   “Yes Sir. Confirmed several times over. Officer Pax also said she saw him using hand signals to our informant Meg Novak.”

   Dean corrected, 'Masters.' knowing that they wouldn't understand him but his former friend was adamant that Novak wasn't her last name anymore. Mr. Novak must have been a bigger ass then she'd let on.

   “You're gonna be sedated for this first run of basic tests.” Lead soldier man said, waving a hand to the white coats.

   Dean grumbled a little, 'Like I have a choice what you do.'

   “Then you can get some few days to recuperate and you will let our medics heal your wounds. Is that understood?”

   Dean snarled quietly. First chance he gets he's gonna rip off each and every bandaid they stick on him. His battle scars are not just decorations. It's proof that he can withstand raw pain. If master didn't want him to have scars, he wouldn't have them. Scars are good. Dean was good. Therefore Dean kept his scars that were gifted to him from master. He could have shed his skin but chose not to, leaving the old dry husk on even though it was tight in some areas. His new skin underneath was just dying to get a chance in the sun but Dean refused to shed his old. Made him look more badass anyway.

   Lead soldier then spoke quietly to the white coats and Dean ignored them all, save for that one lady that was here yesterday. She hung back from the group. Watching him and not lead soldier. When she saw that he noticed her she actually waved and smiled. He rolled his eyes and turned away from her.

   True to his word, lead soldier ordered one of regular soldiers to inject Dean with the herb to knock him out. He could have protested but gave in easily. Blackness greeted him like an old friend.

   He woke to find that he wasn't in pain. At all. This was new. Usually after a blackout he would find at least some discomfort. Even if it's just from him sleeping in an awkward position. He lifted his heavy eyelids and actually gasped when he saw what was under him. A blanket. No wait. Several blankets. Thick and some had actual padding. What the hell? He dipped his nose to it and pushed down, watching it bounce right back to its previous position. He lifted his drowsy head up higher and was even more surprised that the blankets and padding extended from one side of his cage to nearly the other. The only spot that didn't have the pad was where he went to the bathroom, and where a huge basin was now placed with fresh water in it. Another basin was next to it but it was empty. He frowned at it. Why would he need two water bowls?

   He turned back to the blankets and pushed down with his hands as they tingled from waking up. His fingers sunk into the softness and he realized he was actually purring. He stopped it immediately. Looking around to see if anyone noticed that. No one was around. Good. If they saw that he liked this, they'd take it away. Don't show emotion. That's how they win. He noted that the warehouse wasn't empty, but most of the bipeds were along the farther wall. He just made out a row of computers and screens. He never bothered looking too closely before. He now took care to study his surroundings. Shifting his weight on the bed and he sighed contentedly at just how nice it felt to be without massive pressure on his joints. The padding was only a few feet thick and to him if he were human would be just two or three inches or so but still, this was so freakin' _awesome._

   He almost didn't care that they did bandage up his arm again, more of that cream over the wound he licked clean, as well as more bandages around his elbows and feet. He angled his neck out to see that where he had a nastily scarred wound for months was also cleaned, smoothed, and bandaged up. Something attacked him before he got to the zoo. Something big compared to humans but small to him, with claws and teeth. It was black and tore out many scales from his neck and wrist. He looked down and that too was bandaged. Was there any spot that wasn't bandaged?

   He was about to tear them off like he promised himself but found that he didn't want to now. They actually helped. He felt no pain. For the first time in months. He was conscious, not drugged, but still felt no physical pain. Best day of his life! He couldn't stop the grin from forming and he laid back down onto the padding. Someone must have noticed him wake up because there was something being wheeled over to him, covered in a plastic tarp. It was heavy and the cart stopped just beyond the empty dish.

   Two of the soldiers held up herb rifles and he rolled his eyes at them. “Back up so we can feed you.”

   Dean huffed at them. Their choice if they want to feed him or not. He's not gonna move from this awesome spot. He laid his head down and turned it away. A stupid move for a captive but if they wanted to hurt him they would have just left him without the bandages or bedding. He was a little surprised at himself for already accepting the possibility that they _did_ want to help him. That he might actually trust them to not hurt him. Stupid. He will not trust them without evidence of their good intentions.

   A small opening appeared above the basin and the things in the tarp were hefted up onto the bar of the cage and thrown into the basin. The soldiers then pulled the tarp away quickly and slammed the door shut again.

   Dean sniffed the air a bit. He chastised himself for not detecting it sooner. He had food now. A nice plump cow, already skinned and chopped up, was practically overflowing the other basin. It was a food bowl. Usually his meals were thrown to the floor, and that's where he ate from, _gratefully_ , here though, just the act of putting his food into something to keep it off of the dirty floor... This meant something. What a difference a dish makes!

   He watched them go, taking the cart with them and they left him alone. He looked at the meat, sniffed at it and was satisfied that it wasn't drugged or poisoned and started to eat. Man he was hungry. He longed for cooked meat again but that would be pushing his good luck. He had a very distant memory of eating a nice juicy meat circle with some light fluffy things on the top and bottom and something tangy inbetween. Two biped hands held it up to his face and he remembers the taste of it. So greasy and delicious. The rest of the memory is the usual white blur but that was enough to let him know that he once had cooked meat. _Before_.

   Whenever 'before' was. Wherever. Just the idea that it was 'before' all this. Before the zoo. Before... well he's not even sure what that implies but it hangs over his head constantly. He just knows that he is much older then the 3 months of memories. And he wasn't always so... big. He can't really describe the sensation but it's there nonetheless. He was something before this. Whatever. Doesn't matter. He has meat in front of him and he's hungry.

   Lady showed up a little while later wearing a white coat and she just stood there in front of his cage. He shifted side to side a little, unsure what she wanted from him. He turned around and gave her full view of his rump as he laid down facing the wall. If she wants to talk she'll have to make an appointment with his ass. Just because he has some food in him and a bed doesn't mean he suddenly trusts anything that they say or do. Just take it one day at a time.

   The lady laughed and walked around to his front again. She had a light grin on her face and he just huffed at her.

   “Do you like the bed?”

   Dean huffed again and angled his head away. She just jogged on over and leaned down to be in his eyesight again. He snarled for a second and lifted his head up high, aiming it at the ceiling. Try facing him now.

   He felt pressure on his forearm and looked down as she was once again inside his cage and inspecting the bandage. He growled a little and she just tutted at him. He goggled at her. She ignored him and lifted up the fabric, checking on the wound. She then calmly left through the bars again and rested with her back to the vertical bars with her legs kicked out and crossed in front of her. She was typing something into her phone. Dean sniffed at his bandage and then to her. The audacity of it all stunned him quite frankly. She had no fear of him. The only ones that didn't fear him had something in their possession to make him fear them instead. Tasers, pain sticks, rifles, herb needles, knifes, swords, clubs, crowbars... teeth, fangs... and yet here she was. Armed with a phone and, Dean took another sniff of her through the bars, and... she has nothing. She wore some kind of perfume that made him want to sneeze but that wasn't herb related. It was just too flowery for his tastes. No.. wait... there's something underneath that.

   He took another deep inhale of her back and she squirmed a little at being sniffed. She kept herself from turning around as he cloths rippled with the dragon's breath. Gusting the air around her body. She held her own, not daring to move as he sniffed her again. Making low guttural noises. Not threatening. Almost as if he was trying to figure something out and was talking to himself. She startled when she heard him sneeze behind her. She scrambled back from the cage and looked up to him as his jaw was working, nose twitching in the aftereffects and his eyes watered. He lifted up his hand and rubbed away at his nose briskly. Looking accusingly down at her.

   She didn't move for a full minute as his eyebrows lowered and he crept slowly closer to her. Nose twitching. He stopped just on the other side of the bars even though he could move his head halfway through them. They were built wide enough for her and other thin people to be able to just walk on through them but he couldn't get more then a hand or nose out. He sniffed again, not quite so massive and held back another sneeze.

   “You're... you're allergic to something?”

   Dean's eyebrows lowered at her. Allergic? What the hell does that mean?

   “Do you sneeze often?”

   He shook his head.

   A grin spread on her lips, she was talking with him. He was willing to talk to her. “I don't know what I'm wearing that you'd be allergic to. We have no way of knowing... I uh.. lemme try something.” She said and removed her outer jacket and put it to a spot 15 feet away from where she was sitting and returned to her spot. “Smell the lab coat.”

   He looked dubiously at her but swung his head over and sniffed the coat. Nothing. Well, not as _much_ of a tingle. She put a finger to her lips in thought, and then waved for his attention. He came back over and quirked an eyebrow. “Smell me again.”

   He grimaced at that. Who does that? Asked to be sniffed. Usually they just ignored his curiosity. He rolled his eyes but then inhaled her scent again. He sneezed almost automatically. She actually ducked. He looked sheepishly at her, glad he missed hitting her full on with his spittle. He wanted to warn her that his saliva is flammable but that was unnecessary as she quickly left his cage area towards a white box with a spout at one side close to the top. She pulled a curtain after she entered and called over some assistance. Two white coats came over and one gave her some green cloths and the other was unwrapping something from a nearby box. He tried to figure out what they were doing but she just threw her cloths from behind the curtain and they were gathered up immediately and put in a red bag with a circle symbol thing on it. All the while Dean heard them talking but couldn't quite understand what it was about. He heard water running and her yelping something about it being cold. He went back to the coat again, still laying by his bars and took another sniff. That tingle returned and he sneezed again. The other white coats gave him a glare and he just stuck his tongue out at them. It's not his fault he's sneezing. At least they aren't on fire now like the last time...

   Wait... what last time? He sneezed and something wooden caught on fire. Flat and wide next to a tall wooden thing... He got in trouble for it. More white noise in his head. And it's gone. Just that quick.

   Lady came back over wearing the green cloths and green socks. He wondered what that was all about. Why did she need to change?

   “That was close!” she said cheerfully. “We found out that your saliva is highly flammable and if I went close to any open flame I’d have caught on fire!”

   He gaped at her. Of course! That's why she cleaned her self. Oh crap. He should be more careful.

   She could see him beating himself up and held up her hands, “It's ok! Ok! It's my fault for pushing you. I knew you might sneeze again and I had you sniff me anyway.” She said and then thought of something. “Sniff me again.”

   He actually backed up from her, shaking his head. He will not be responsible for putting her life in danger needlessly. She may be the enemy but she didn't seem so evil. She just shook her head right back and her grin got wider. “You like me.” she said more or less to herself. He snorted at that. “Then get your ass over here and sniff me. If you sneeze again, we will be closer to determining what it is, if not, then no worries.”

   He squinted at her but eventually lowered his head out of boredom more then anything. He inhaled her scent carefully again but did not sneeze. He inhaled more forcefully, exhale whipping her hair around and she chuckled. He sniffed her head to toe, not detecting that tickle again. She seemed pleased with that.

   “Ok, at least you're not allergic to me. Now let's see what the culprit is so we can get rid of it.”

   Dean softened at that. She cared about him.

   She left towards the white cube water thing again and brought over her cloths, setting them down in front of his cage and shoo-ing off the other white coats. “Sniff these, I have a feeling I know what it is.”

   He did so and stifled a sneeze until his head was turned upwards and away from her. He sneezed again and his eyes watered.

   “Aha! You are probably allergic to cats.” she announced. “I have a couple of cats and their hair gets everywhere. I'm sorry about that. I will make sure that I keep my work cloths far away from Bonbon and Fluffernutter.”

   Dean just looked at her. Really? Those are cat names?

   “Hey, better then yours Freckles.”

   What? His whole body must have asked because she answered.

   “Your collar said your name is Freckles. What, you didn't know? You don't know your own name?”

   Dean had no way of correcting her. He just shook his head and sneered at the name.

   “That's not your name?”

   Dean didn't know if he should nod or shake his head. He shook it and pointed at his nose.

   “So what is your name?”

   He made a noise of consideration. He huffed in annoyance and just went to his water dish. He did not want to teach another biped the hand speak. Even if this lady seemed nice. It felt too much like the time with Meg. He teaches lady, lady pretends to be his friend, she then betrays him and he's left alone again. He slouched as he drank the water. Feeling a little sad that he can't make any new friends without the worry if they'll stand by him or not.

   “Did you want me to guess?”

   He looked at her with sad eyes, shaking his head.

   “Well, we gotta call you something.” He shrugged at that. Who cares what they call him? Names mean nothing. He had no idea he was renamed at all. _Freckles_. How humiliating. He hated his small brown spots. They riddled his body. Like a disease. He looked at the ones on his chest and grumbled. His skin itched. He hated it. His grumbled turned into an inward growl. He lifted a clawed hand to his chest and started to scratch and rub. The outer scales sounded like dry rocks grating together. He scratched harder, and harder still. His claws got under the top layer and he sheered off a full section of his scales.

   He ignored lady's cry of alarm as he went to town, tearing at his own skin, carefully pulling off sheets of it. Rolling his body against the bars for the parts his teeth or claws couldn't reach. The outer layer was finally getting loose and he was happy his under layer was finally able to flex and feel the air.

   He felt a sharp pain just above his heart. He yelped and fell back badly onto a wing. He couldn't move them out of the way and the finger bones nearly snapped. He rolled onto his chest quickly, finding the orange fuzzy ball and pulling it out with his mouth, shooting it out of the cage and jerking his head up as fast as he could at who the asshole was that fired that shot. He gaped when he saw lady lowering the gun. She paused before shooting him up again. By now other white coats were running over and a couple of soldiers. All were shouting, asking what happened and for others for containment.

   He felt the herb working double time as she had hit an artery just above his heart. The blood pumping it all through his body and he was laying all the way down before he remembered giving his body the command. His head dropped and he breathed heavily. Some voices announcing an all clear and lady explaining that the dragon was hurting himself.

   He didn't fall asleep all the way though, that requires a double dose. He just laid there in a light daze as white coats and soldiers flooded his cage, hands invading his space and inspecting the loose sheets of scales.

   The lady had a look of shock on her face, “Oh! Oh God. I'm so sorry! I thought you were hurting yourself! I didn't realize you were just shedding your skin! I didn't know you were like a snake...” She babbled on for a few more minutes before a white coat took her away. Dean protested weakly but nothing came of it. White coats took away the parts that he already removed and then stood around outside of his cage for a few minutes, talking quietly and pointing at him. Then, they all came back in and with small knives, started to cut away at the rest of his skin.

   He was _horrified_. They had _knives_ and were everywhere. Two got up onto his back and were cutting away at his wings, three at his tail, slicing away. He felt the tug of scales coming apart from his body and he whimpered. _Not like this_. They don't know how to get them off the right way. They need to be rubbed off not _chopped_! He was too far under the herb to move but felt every knife blade on his hide. His hind legs were pulled away from under his body and they got out larger knives. Working away at the callouses at his ankles. Once his legs were done they moved to his elbows. Slicing and grinning the whole while. Like they were doing him a fuckin' favor by cutting into him. Tears leaked from his eyes. Why wont they _just stop?!_

   He saw pieces of his skin being removed from the cage, laid out on the floor like it was a map and he was disgusted by it. They were clearly excited and happy to be removing not just the top layer that Dean intended to rub off, but the under layer as well. Leaving just a very very thin layer of membrane before actual muscle tissue would hit air. This was more painful then anything Alistair did. There were so many of them. All over. Not caring at all that he was in intense pain. Laughing at who got the biggest chunk of his skin.

   He finally blacked out from the intense stinging pain.

 

   Dean came to days later. Wrapped nearly head to toe in something. He turned his weary head but howled in pain as the movement brushed open a sore spot on his neck. He tried to fight back tears but they fell anyway. He gently lowered his head again. Grateful that they left him the cushioned floor and blankets. Small comforts for heartless torture. He knew it. It was only a matter of time before he would feel the bite of their blades. Alistair and Azazel just wanted to train him into being a good boy. These guys. They were having fun ripping his skin off. They made it a _contest_.

   He felt hands gently caress his cheek and he winced from it. It didn't hurt but he expected it to.

   Lady was there, apologizing over and over again. He wanted to believe the lies. That it was an accident. They thought they were _helping_. Bull. Shit. And here come the tears down her face. She was really trying to be convincing. He wished he could tell if they were real or not but the scent of his own anxiety drowned out whatever scent she was putting out. He used up some strength and moved his head away from her gentle hands. She took the hint and scooted back a little further. He couldn’t help but listen to her explain what happened, how after he was out, they realized what they were doing was hurting him instead of helping and set about wrapping him up in some kind of material. Not cloth, or plastic. Almost like a combination but different. It felt alright to the touch. His skin would heal, but it will take time. he wont have any of the scars from before. Fresh clean slate. He hoped he wouldn't have any freckles anymore. Least of all that stupid name. She was probably joking. No way in hell would master name him Freckles.

   He noticed that there was a new scent under his nose and opened his eyes again, looking down at a plate of fresh meat. Still raw. He grimaced at it but ate anyway. It seemed to make Lady happy. She had the nerve to coo at him like he was a hurt werewolf cub. He twitched away from her fingers along his nose and snorted at her. His eyes contracted dangerously and she left the bowl of meat in front of him and sat at the bars some 10 feet away. Still inside his cage though. He couldn't even have his own space to himself, huh? He ate the rest of the meat quickly and picked up the bowl. He tossed it none too gently at her and she deflected the blow with her hands.

   She had a look of fear and hurt before she put on a blank expression with tight lips, picked up the bowl and left his cage. _Finally._ He very slowly and carefully moved his head to the water basin and drank his fill. Hating how much he ached all over. Stupid bipeds. If they really were here to help then why the hell didn't they stop when he cried? 'Tell me that?' he growled. Man, even breathing hurt. That's the last time he ever, EVER trusts a biped.

   The white coats and soldiers kept coming by every few hours to check up on him but he just gave the same reply back. A warning growl and a hiss of flammable gas if they got too close. They would have to shower and change if they got the mist on them so he relished in those few times that he really got to douse someone in it. They left him alone after the 4th attack. He was honestly surprised they didn't try and knock him out with the herb to study him.

   He found out the reason why when his scales were healed enough for him to take off the bandages and wrappings. Fucking freckles still spotted his hide. Dammit. Even after all that, they still showed up just to make him look ridiculous. He inspected the damages and was a little sad to see that he had a baby smooth hide and no scars at all. All of the major spikes along his spine and the ones crowning his head stayed, as well as the newer ones along his back just behind his wing shoulders. The outsides of his wings were getting more rough as he got older but now, he was almost back to where he was months ago. Just slightly bumpier and rougher. He had a feeling that if he'd just shed weeks ago like his instincts told him to, none of this would have happened. Or maybe it would. Bipeds loved to dig their knives into him.

   Speaking of. Here comes the rifles. He backed up from the two soldiers and looked around for Lady. No sign of her. She hadn't come to see how he was doing at all since he threw that bowl at her. Maybe it was too hasty to blame her for everything. A part of him wished she would come around the corner and tell him what's going on because no one else really felt inclined to let him in. Before he could think of much more, he was shot in the side with a normal gun just to make him turn around and then shot with the herb rifle. He glared hatefully at the men and someone shouted that he was bleeding.

   That was new. Gunshots usually don't puncture his hide. As he felt that familiar drugs coursing though him he could see the red blood seep from his side. Huh. I guess when you remove that many layers of scale and don't let them heal long enough makes him as vulnerable as a newborn baby dragon. Good to know.

   Like last time, he wasn't put all the way under, just enough so that he felt no pain. More herb, less filler he guessed. The whole front part of the cage was detached from one wall, ceiling and floor of his cage. It was then opened up like a huge door and laid flush with that cage wall it was connected to. He could only tell what they were doing by sound, head too heavy to move on its own now. He liked the floaty feeling right now though, only good thing about this. Like he was weightless but still remained immobile on his own. They had two big looking machines on wheels come in and they put padding around all of his legs and attached leather around that like a cuff and then finally a heavy chain over top, cinched up but just snug, his pulse still strong going to his hands and feet. The chains led to the two machines that kinda looked like small trucks with a wide metal scoop on one and a crane arm on the other. Each were about 10 feet tall and he would have laughed at the fact that it would take them to just move his body. A pulse of pride filled him when he thought of just how big he'd gotten. Just wait for the time when they let their guard down. He will show them just how strong and terrifying a dragon can be.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted when they attached the chains from his wrists to the metal machines, and then pulled steadily so that he was now stretched out a bit more. Calls and orders were made all around him and he could do nothing to stop it. It took no less then 12 men and women with ropes netted under his long neck to stretch out his head and neck to lay down parallel to each of his forelegs and beyond. His head landing close to the two machines. He inspected the wheels close to his head and noticed that both of them had weird wide metal loops around them, like very thick metal belts that all the inner wheels were attached to. The wheels turn and the track digs into the concrete and the whole thing moved off to the side. The other one joined its mate and he felt the chains around his ankles being thread through the rear bars of his cage. His hind legs too were pulled back so he was laying just on his belly, forearms, neck, chest and knees and the tops of his toes far behind his rump. His tail was more or less ignored but they gave an attempt to stretch that out as well. Splayed completely out, like he was in Alistair's room. His heart picked up speed. It was obvious that just moving him into position wore the bipeds out. They took a brief break and other white coats that weren't involved in the move came back with other machines. He tried to growl but came out a moan instead. The smaller machine thing was put on a very tall table on wheels and situated over top of his head. It took 3 men to shift his head so it was perfectly straight and ropes were tied to his horns so that the men's hands were out of the way.

   Out of the way of what? Dean tried looking above but flinched when he saw a series of bright flashes nearly blind him. He squirmed a little but the ropes on his horns pulled him back straight. He lifted a lip but moaned instead of growled again. A young girl came to his front and sat on the ground in front of his nose. Their eyesight more or less level now.

   “It's ok. This wont hurt. I promise. We're just gonna take some pictures and x-rays of your body. No more knives. I swear.” she grinned reassuringly and patted the bridge of his nose before getting up and moving behind his line of sight again.

   Dean rolled his eyes. Biped promises are more worthless then dirt. The tall table was moved very slowly down to the back of his head and his head was lifted briefly forwards so that they could get some pictures of behind his horns. He grunted at being forced nose first into the concrete but that didn't last longer then a minute. His head was rested back down and the machine was moved down his body over the course of a half an hour. They seemed interested in his left hand. Taking some other machine over and waving it over his fingers. It was attached to a poll and had a flat disk like thing at the end. He tensed, waiting for the shock but nothing happened but a beeping that got loud and repeating then slowed and then loud again. He could hear it being waved back and forth over his hand and more excited noises from everyone as they gathered around it. He wished to hell he could see what they were so interested in. His left hand is the same as his right.

   “Something metal is inside. Is it an implant?”

   “We'll know more once the more detailed x-rays are developed.”

   “It's not silver, otherwise he'd be burned from the inside out.”

   “It seems like the metal is just inside that one finger.”

   Dean's eyebrows lowered. What the hell are they talking about? Something is inside his finger? Who put it there?

   The others kept on taking pictures of his body with that machine. Stopping here and there and his wings were stretched out one at a time to be photographed as well. He sighed happily as the muscles were finally able to stretch out and he wished to hell he had the strength to flap them because oh _man_ would that be heaven right about now. Each wing was then lifted and the machine took photos of the undersides and along his belly on both sides. They moved to his rump and took a series of photos there and he blushed. They were awfully close to his sheath and were poking his sides and hips.

   “Careful there. Don't want to traumatize him anymore then we already are.”

   “What?”

   “That's his...” Dean could hear the girl hesitate but then continue, “That's his junk alright? That bulge there is like some lizard's. His genitals are kept on the inside so back off from that spot. The boss isn't concerned with that right now.”

   “Wouldn't it be prudent to study it more? If we do intend to breed them?”

   “What?! You _maniac_! The only other dragon we know about is his MOTHER. Fuckin' asshole.” she cussed and he wished to hell he could see what's going on because someone was touching his side. He heard a few bipeds move around and more were gathering towards his rump. He would give anything right now to be able to move it away from them.

   His rescuer continued, “Would you want someone forcing you to have sex with your mom? Or you with your dad?” she practically growled. “Leave him alone. You've done enough already.”

   “You are a lower ranking soldier Private.”

   “I may be, but I have a _conscience_. I'm guessing you've never been molested before have you Sir.?” She growled under her breath. Dean's heart went out to her. He wanted to console her and cheer her on at the same time. “Leave. Him. Alone.”

   The others actually seemed to listen to her and the hand that was on his rump left. A different hand was now felt on his wing shoulder, moving in soothing circles along the leading edge of his wing. He heard her walk along his neck towards his face and he was startled to see it was the same one that sat in front of him before. He must really be out of it because he didn't recognize her voice as being the same biped.

   “Sorry about that.” she gave a frown. He blinked at her. Not able to do much more. His eyebrows lifted a little, willing her to understand he felt grateful for what she said and did. “Some people just don't understand. They get so wrapped up in the science they forget that animals have souls too.” She reached a tentative hand forward and he blinked slowly as permission. She had a very gentle touch as she rubbed her hand along his nose, up the bridge of it and had to scoot closer to his head to reach up to his forehead. He hummed a little. Appreciating the kindness. Her hand trailed down his cheek and startled when it came away wet. “You're crying?”

   Dean squinted. No. He wasn't. Must be something in the air.

   “It's ok Baby. It's ok.” she soothed, rubbing away the wetness from his cheek and doing the same to the other side.

   “That's enough. He's fine. Stop babying him.” A gruff voice ordered and she stood at attention again. Dean looked up and saw her salute. “Thank you for upholding my orders, Private.” He said. Dean looked over but all he saw was a pair of black pants and a black jacket. The rest of him was behind his side fan ears. He felt a pressure on a that horn and figured he was just resting his hand there like one would lean on a table.

   'And now I'm furniture again.' Dean thought to himself.

   “Go make sure that they'll be ready for us for the extraction.” Black suit ordered and Private nodded, saluted again and walked away. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Dean and he managed a grin back. Her smile doubled and she waved before leaving out of the double doors. Black suit then walked in front of him and knelled down to be eye to eye with Dean. “First time I've seen you awake. How are you feeling today, Freckles?”

   Dean sneered at that stupid name again. Thankfully Black suit guessed what he was sneering at and didn't take personal offense.

   “Gonna name you something else.” He tapped a finger to the end of Dean's nose. He snorted a little at that. He already has a name. “Spike.” he announced and grinned to himself. “Yup. Spike sounds better. More manly. Tough. Ok now, Spike, why do you have a ring of metal in your fourth finger on your left hand?”

   Dean's brow furrowed. What metal were they all talking about. He never had anything in his hand before.

   “I can tell that you don't know what the hell I'm talking about.” he sighed and pointed to his own hand. “Right here, you have a small ring of metal imbedded inside your bone along this one. This is generally where we humans wear rings. I, and my people, want to know who and how they got that inside of your bone. Did the bone grow around it?”

   Dean didn't know how to answer. He had no idea. He always felt a minor bump there, but ignored it because it didn't hurt him at all. The bump was more pronounced when he was a kid but then it just went away.

   “Were you always like this?”

   Well that's a weird question. What else would he be?

   “Do you, uh, have any memories of before your life as a dragon? I heard that some creatures we catch were once human. Like the human shaped werewolves. The ones that don't turn into furry four legged wolf hybrids. You spent time with that kind at the zoo we got you from. There are other kinds of werewolves that stay more or less human but gain claws, fangs and super strength as they loose themselves and become like a rabid dog. Those werewolves were once human and were bitten to become those monsters. The fully transforming werewolves were born that way. A different bloodline. They could also infect and change humans but it's a little more rare. They don't become as rabid.” Black suit explained and got down to sit on the ground. His knees probably hurting from kneeling down. “Were you once human?”

   Dean squinted at him. Yeah sure he may have weird flashes but he wasn’t human. Dean shook his head.

   “Oh. Alright. Well, we are almost done with the scan. Gonna take some more pictures of the inside of your mouth if you don't mind.”

   Of course Dean minded but he didn't really have a say in this.

   After another injection of herb he was 'good' for more testing. At least they left the knives on the table. This round was more about swabs. They swabbed his ears, that tickled to all hell, and his nose. He flinched but they didn't dig in as deep or painful as Alistair did. Just got some of his mucus along the outside edges and put it in clear vials. Two people lifted up his mouth and he was tempted to bite down but they propped his mouth open with a piece of metal. He gagged a little as a swab attached to a pole was pushed into his throat. The wet one was replaced, and a clean swab sought out where he keeps his flammable spray. He kept the gland firmly closed, glad he could control it like that. And they could poke and prod all they like but he will not reveal how it opens and give away a free sample of his fire liquid. He gagged again and wanted to sneeze but held it in. Eyes watering. They swabbed his throat again and along his teeth, gums and under his tongue. More pictures, endless pictures, and that machine was removed from the tall table and put inside his mouth. He wanted to chomp down and break it in the worst way. His tongue lashing out until someone grabbed it in a firm fist to hold it down. He gagged several times as the big bulky machine was angled this way and that. Taking pictures of his back teeth and all along the top and mandible. His mouth felt so dry when they finally let it fall shut again. His tongue lazily trying to moisten it again.

   More swabs gently got his tear ducts and his eyes watered again. They coo'ed at him again and he hated it. Black suit was present for the swab around his rear end and it was over before he even realized what they were doing. No one touched his sheath and for that he was eternally grateful. Though, he did see them take separate samples of his waste that was along the back corner of his cage. He was a little embarrassed but he had no where else to do his business. He had to squat in the corner. Made all the more difficult since, save for right now, his back legs were always chained together.

   “Ok!” Black suit said, coming back around to his face. “Just gonna get you up to surgery and take care of your little fire problem.”

   'What?' he snapped. He got a pat on his head as a response and soon Black suit was waving his hand and his forelegs were tied up to the wheeled machines again. His head was placed inside the bowl part of one of the machines and a soldier got in and held it still so it wouldn't fall out. He felt his whole body being dragged along the ground and all the while many soldiers and white coats were giving calls and orders that he didn't understand entirely.

   The whole operation stopped and a new plan was devised where he was to be tied up completely and pulled by one machine and pushed by the other. He willed his body to move but it was useless and limp. His hands and feet were bound together and his tail wound around all of them and head now tucked over top of it all. He felt like a tied knot or a bundled cord. His wings were folded up and away, tied along his spine because they were meant to keep him in the air, not be used as his own personal carrying bag. A metal net was brought over and he was dragged onto it, protesting the whole way, the net's corners were now pulled up over his body and tied shut. He never felt so claustrophobic in his life. His cries went unheard as the wheeled machine pushed him from behind and the one with the arm pulled him forward.

   He was dragged and pushed into a white room with many monitors all around. His adrenaline levels were skyrocketing, combating the herb injection. He could move a little but was still being tied down. White coats filled the empty spaces of the room along with equipment and his head was pulled out of the net and laid on a table. His eyes contracted as he flashed back to Alistair's table. His knifes, his torture. Dean held a breath. Then huffed it out and held another. Things were turned on, saws, humming things, something flashed in his face again. Some murmuring about “Third molar, fourth molar to be excised from the root. Be wary of sparks, we will have to use plastic tools for extraction. Remove the covers.” He felt his mouth opening again, this time being held up by his upper fangs that were tied to the ceiling but his jaw was left slack on the table below. He had to breath with his mouth open. The white coats were wearing things over their faces.

   “Move the lingual tonsil carefully, we don't know exactly how he extracts the spray.”

   “Palatine tonsil is unresponsive. And... the oropharynx looks healthy. Good. Now, sedate him completely so we can get started.”

   Dean's eyes shot all around but something was placed on the back of his throat and shoved inside. He gagged for a moment but it passed down a little ways, out of their sight. He held it still using the muscles at the back of his throat, making sure it didn’t get into his stomach like they wanted. If they wanted it to happen, he most certainly DID NOT. Obviously they didn’t know about his talented throat muscles and assumed that he was now passed out. He shut his eyes and listened to them work. He remembered hearing something about the caps being removed. Why? He didn’t care, just so long as they were taken off. He felt hands entering his mouth. Wishing like hell he could bite them off for this intrusion. His tongue was held firm when he tried to grab a hold of an arm.

   “Looks like... looks like the back fourth molars are made of a different material then the normal dentine. Here and here. There seems to be four of them, one on each far back corner of his mouth. Just like the mother.”

   Dean's eyes widened as he thought to himself, 'They did this to Mother? They tortured her too? Operated on her?! Fuckin' bastards are gonna pay!'

   Before anyone could react, he lifted his head sharply from the table, chomping down on the ropes, scissor cutting them cleanly with his lower teeth. He mustered up all the strength he had to roar at them and they scattered away. He immediately let loose _all_ of his fire starter flames into the room, twisting his head to include all of the machines and knifes and just everything he could find in his spray. He waited just 5 seconds before he sparked his back teeth and the entire room _EXPLODED_ with fire.

 

   “What happened?! What's going on?!”

   “Fire in the operating room! Get everyone out of the building! _Now!_ ”

   Sirens blazed but no fire extinguisher or sprinkler system could stop the flames that engulfed and destroyed the room the dragon was in as well as all the ones surrounding it. Soon the fire dripped and spread through the whole building, setting _everything_ ablaze. Somehow everyone was able to evacuate. They all waited anxiously out in the parking lot, watching the warehouse burn and take with it the storage garages and hanger. Helicopters hovered overhead, trying to douse the flames but it was obvious that the whole building was a total loss. The second floor collapsed onto the first in a roaring cloud of fire and smoke and debris. Support beams crashed down right over where the operating room was.

   Panicking and frantic, Private paced back and forth. Trying to get into the building, trying to find the young helpless and hurt creature and rescue him, but was held back by several soldiers. “He's in there! He's _hurt_! Someone do something!”

   “He's the one that set the fire! He's too big to pull out. I'm sorry, but he's probably already dead.”

   “ _No_! You can't give up on him that easily!”

   “Enough!” the general shouted, coming over to address the crowd. “What is the condition of the female?”

   “Stable sir, still sedated in stasis. The fire can't reach her location.”

   “Where did the fire originate?” No one wanted to come forward. “Well?”

   “The operating room. We were just about to make the first extraction of the third and fourth molars on the tops and bottom corners of his mouth when he woke up and set everything on fire. We barely made it out before the explosion.”

   “He was supposed to be sedated for the procedure.”

   “We thought he was!” one of the surgeons shouted, composed himself and said, “I put the pill in his throat myself.” He said, clearly uneasy. “It worked on the female.” He shrugged, clearly not military raised. “Her procedure went fine, his should have as well...”

   The general frowned at him. “I will confer with my staff on what to do about this unfortunate accident. For now, containment is top priority. Do not let this leak to the press.”

 

* * *

 

   Michael got a phone call that evening. He grinned to himself. _Finally,_ the stubborn general is willing to listen to his request.

 

* * *

   

   “Caaasssssssieeeee.....” Balthazar whined.

   “What.” Castiel stated blandly. Knowing _exactly_ what Balthazar was whining about. “Balth, I don't know what to tell you. I'd been working for Michael for three months now. I only just managed to make it to the leader of our small garrison of misfits. What do you want from me? I haven’t even had a chance to see the mother. Maybe they’ll let me tag along to see her in the future... But. Even Michael only has so much access to her. Isn’t it enough that I was able to show you that scale?” Castiel said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. This was nearly a nightly thing. Ever since Castiel sold his house and moved in with his friend Balthazar, Balthazar had been pestering him to bring back photos of the big momma dragon.

   As much as Castiel himself would absolutely _love_ to see the beast, he could only move up the ranks so fast. He wasn't military. Michael found out about his background and Balthazar's and it was anyone’s guess how he felt about the conspiracy theorist living with a cryptozoologist.

   “Nothing Cassie. I just.. sorry I'm bothering you so much.” Balthazar shrugged and gave a quick hug to his friend and asked, “So what did Michael want?”

   “Hmm?”

   “He called earlier. What did he want?”

   “Oh, I didn't know. When was this?”

   “'Bout 7 pm or so. Thought you guys close shop at 5.”

   “We do...” Castiel stated and went about calling his boss up.

   Balthazar went about making dinner for the two of them. Pasta with bits of chicken and alfredo sauce. When it was done cooking he heard something drop in the other room and went to Castiel's aide. “What's wrong? What is it?”

   “We uhh... Michael... he uhh....” Castiel said dazedly. Balthazar shook him until he finally focused on his face. A disbelieving grin spread on his face. “Michael got the offspring.” He whispered.

   “What?” Balthazar frowned. “ _What?_ ” he repeated.

   “The offspring. The mother's offspring. The one that lived. You said that it disappeared months ago. Well, the military general that Michael has been talking to that owns the mother also tracked down and caught the offspring. He had it for about a week before it uh.. apparently it set fire to the building and they lost nearly everything.”

   Balthazar paused, “Is anyone hurt?”

   “Yeah, no, everyone is still alive, fine. I think. Well some hurt I would guess but no one died in the fire. The general was pissed and said that he doesn’t need both dragons and Michael made an offer to buy the baby so he agreed to sell it.” Castiel explained what he remembered of the conversation. He didn’t get much more information, but the last thing that Michael said was the real eye opener.

   “That's bloody good news! Maybe you'll have a chance of seeing the kid?”

    “Better.” Castiel beamed. “Michael made me head of the department.”

* * *

 

   It was a chilly spring day when a very large semi pulled into the lot for an enormous hanger for decommissioned cargo planes. The whole property sat in near disrepair as men streamed out from the huge main building and the convoy of military trucks that flanked an oversized semi trailer on all sides. 'Wide load' plastered all over the trailer that was just a bit bigger then those houses Castiel sometimes sees on the highway roads. His nerves kept him back from all the action. He was obviously hyperventilating into a paper bag in his new office. Watching breathlessly from the windows as the semi and convoy met up with Michael and his whole team outside to greet them and settle the deal.

   The way Castiel understands it, is that the military is selling Michael the male dragon under the table but officially and on paper alone, the beast is being loaned out to Michael for outside study and research as they get their old destroyed base of operations up and running again. He could see Michael and the general talking and wished to god that he could put away his nausea so that he wouldn't throw up all over his bosses. He was just too excited, nervous, scared as shit and thrilled at the same time. Balthazar wasn't here now but Castiel promised him that tomorrow he'd let him come by once things settle a little bit. It would be hard enough to explain his presence during the transaction.

   He found a chair that must be for his office and wheeled it closer to the window to watch.

   Dean felt the metal box shift back and forth and the tires and brakes screech to a halt. At very long last, it stopped. The tangible promise of being able to get out of this coffin was thrilling. They'd been driving for hours and he was glad to be at rest. He tongued at the holes where his back sparker teeth were, moaning their loss again.

   After he set the fire, he accidentally swallowed the herb pill thing and promptly passed out as the building burned and collapsed all around him. He was still tangled up in the net, unable to move and he came to just as the walls were crumbling away from him. After hours, a chain was lowered down from the sky, too cloudy to see where it attached to but he felt like he was being pulled up. His body swung lazily in the net as he saw the ground fall away below. His heart raced and he felt a surge of panic before being swung over such dizzying heights to a huge pit in the ground. Men were already in the pit and he was gently lowered down amongst them. They looked positively _pissed_. He had next to no strength left after the fire and the effects of the pill as they pried his mouth open and forcefully pulled out all of his back teeth. After the sparker teeth, the fifth one was smashed out more then pulled. Purely for revenge. The pain was unbearable but thankfully the man in the black suit was there to save his life as some of the soldiers were quickly going for guns and knives. So much yelling. So many weapons drawn. He is still surprised even now to find that they didn't just kill him for what he did.

   The semi box he was in now was made to be taken apart from all sides. A biped sized door is located at the front end to the right and it opened up, letting in more light then the cracks along the seams. He laid curled up because of the small area and pretended to remain asleep as someone walked hesitantly inside. Gun drawn and ready. He left soon after, Dean guessed it was just to make sure he was still there and didn't manage an escape attempt in transit. If only. Dean can see that there are many other soldiers and bipeds in suits waiting outside, trying to take a peek. He could hear the distinct clicking of intimidating guns and medical syringes attached to dart guns. Boots pacing back and around the semi. At least 30 bipeds out there now.

   Someone new comes into the trailer soon after. He's all smiles and happiness. The smell is disgusting to Dean now. He can tell by now that this guy wants to own him. The scent is next to overpowering. The man appears to be unarmed but actually has 3 guns on him. Dean smells them too. All herb bullets in at least one of the guns, the other has iron and silver. Hard to tell what the third one has or where he's keeping any of them. Dean stills his nose as the man walks fairly confidently into the semi box and starts talking out loud “He is bigger then I expected. What have they been feeding him?” He takes a few steps toward him as Dean stirs out of his rest. The guy seems unconcerned. A hand going to one of the guns. Dean's not sure which one. “How much is he worth to me, General?.... certainly the price for keeping him and feeding him will be costly.”

   “We already agreed to the price. I know you'd have offered more if I raised it. So don't go nickle and dimeing me now, Michael.” Dean knows that's Black suits voice out there. He _was_ sold. He kinda figured, but it still stings to think about it.

   The dragon is fully awake now and raises his long neck as high as it can go in the confines to stretch and to intimidate this 'Michael' not to come closer. The man seems to have made up his mind and walks to the small door and starts talking in hushed tones to the men outside in lab coats.

   Dean starts to move towards the door as quietly as he could. Then Michael steps out and the door is slammed shut.

   The dragon snarls softly and strains to look out of the porthole window. He didn't notice it there before. Maybe it was covered from the outside. Either way, he moves his neck and head quietly closer and looks out at his surroundings. A wide open field and mountains in the distance. A whole bunch of soldiers, suits and white coats all standing around looking at Michael and Black suit expectantly.

   Castiel finally settles his nerves with a shot of whiskey that Balthazar put in his flask and opened up the door to the office, crossing the wide expanse of the hanger and leaving the immense building behind as he strolls up to the group of cars, trucks, men and women and last but certainly not least, the beast in the trailer. His thoughts skitter sideways like a scared pony. ' _Holy. Shit._ This is not happening right now. I'm not here right now. No way in any reality am I really walking up to a trailer that has in it a mythical fire breathing monster from days of yore. Ok Cassie, who the hell says 'days of yore'... and when the hell did I start to refer to myself as 'Cassie?' Been hanging around with Balth too long. Ok. Focus. Stop sweating. Just focus on walking and not running away and throwing up all over your shoes.' He affirms and adds, 'again.' before settling his mind and stomach and reaching his boss and the general. Nodding to each in lieu of a handshake. His hands were practically dripping with sweat. Bad first impression. He hopes to hell that they can't tell he's five seconds away from peeing himself with nervous excitement.

   Dean can just barely tell someone walking up from the side of his trailer. Not really visible through the warp of glass. The man is wearing a tan coat and approaches the two heads in charge. 'Huh. Guy must be important.' Dean looks around again and notices for a brief second that Tan coat is looking right at him. Tan coat squints against the sun and tilts his head a little. Kinda interesting for a biped. Dean winks at him and loves the reaction he gets. Bipeds are so much fun to mess with.

   Castiel looks at the small circular window in the door and thinks he sees movement inside. One huge green eye blinked at him. Holy ever loving God almighty that was the _biggest greenest eye_ he'd ever seen. His heart skips and he takes a minute to realize that Michael just nudged him to pay attention. Castiel takes a second to make sure he's still composed enough to be around other sentient beings. He has to look as sane as possible before his cover is blown and he's fired. He _does not_ want to embarrass Michael in front of the freakin' _army_. There are no do-overs or take backs if he looses his cool now. He looks briefly back to the dragon but it's not looking at him anymore. He feels his heart sink a little at that.

   Dean's gaze looks past Tan coat to Michael as he walks past the soldiers, suits and the white coat men to a guarded table where a briefcase and duffel bag sits full of green paper. Michael leans onto the table looking at some more paper. He sighs, grins, and signs the contract. Michael then hands the money over to Black suit and few words are exchanged. They shake hands and Black suit slaps Michael on the back.

   Tan coat is summoned over to the gaggle of white coats. Dean can barely hear that Tan coat is briefed on the physicality of the dragon, his weight, height, strength and diet. He is handed a thick folder and the men walk away seeming to be relieved of the burden. Dean takes offense to that. 'I am a joy to be around.' he huffs a laugh. The soldiers and the white coats that are with Black suit get into their cars and trucks and drive off. The semi and trailer are left there in the parking lot area.

   Castiel takes a minute to go over what just happened. Michael did it. He bought a dragon from the army. How is this real life? How is he the one that Michael put in charge of this dragon?? Why??? Michael claims he trusts Castiel but this is... still as unbelievable as it was a few nights ago when he first called him up and said, “Guess who's dreams came true.”

   Castiel shook his head a little, then looked back to the semi and trailer. He and Michael approached it and the porthole window. The dragon was still in there but it must have moved to the rear of the box. Micheal was still all grins as he slapped him on the back again. He said some more encouraging words but Castiel wasn't really cognitive enough to register them other then, 'Michael said some stuff and left'.

   Dean could hear one of the bipeds leave and looked over his shoulder at the other one. Tan coat was still there, slack jawed and still. Dean moved around, trailer tilting one way then the other a little and Tan coat had to grab a hold of the door handle to keep on the small ledge just beneath the door. Dean had seen that the first person in had to climb up something to get in. Steps under the door perhaps. He shuffled closer to the door and saw the handle twitch. Just waiting for it to open up. Tan coat seemed to realize what he was holding onto and let go immediately. Dean huffed. So close to getting his head out the little door to breath in fresh air again. He wriggled over to the door and glared out at Tan coat.

   Castiel gasped at the sight of the massive monster moving closer, obviously pissed about something and staring at him like he was dinner. Both of their heads just a foot apart with nothing but the window in-between them. Castiel was frozen in place on the steps. If he took a step back he'd fall on his ass. He'd have to break eye contact to see where the step down was and how the hell can anyone do that when you have a 3 foot long pissed off _dragon's_ head glaring at you from the other side of a flimsy door. “Whoa...”

   'Huh.' Dean thought, 'Tan coat sounds like he's swallowed enough gravel to shit a sidewalk. Nice blue eyes though. Looks kinda scared of me. Well, now I'm the asshole then right? Who bought who? I'm allowed to be pissed if I wanna be pissed.' He then snarled at Tan coat and the poor guy fell down and away from the door. Dean did feel a little bad about that. He pressed his side fan ear to the door and heard Tan coat stumble back from the trailer. Sending out apologies to the others and thank you's for helping him up again.

   “Wonderful first impression.” Castiel muttered to himself. “Really showed him who's boss. Balthazar's gonna love this.” He grumbled ruefully. “Still, could be worse. He could have eaten me alive.”

   Dean growled back through the door, 'I don't eat geek-boys.'

   Dean had the satisfaction of listening to Tan coat hustle away, quick, fast and in a hurry.

 

 


	11. Feel no sorrow, feel no shame, Come tomorrow, feel no pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets settled into his new digs and Castiel tries to keep it together.
> 
> So so many POV changes... like so many.  
> Mainly between Castiel and Dean. I try to make it obvious, Castiel does not know that Dean's name is Dean so if you see that then it's from Dean's POV. Conversely, since Dean's mental vocabulary is a little limited, he refers to everything as it appears to him, if no one had bothered to tell him what the real words are or mean. like, humans are still just 'biped's. I think it's cute :)  
> (I called a co-worker a silly biped the other day and received much confusion.)
> 
> (This, and the ending of the previous chapter and all of the next, are from the original short story I wrote 4 years ago. It originally had nothing to do with Supernatural, and it did not go anywhere for *years*. About two months ago I had the idea of turning it into a SPN fanfic and it took a long time to get up to this original plot. It's almost harder to adapt then it was to write the first 10 chapters! but at least I got 'caught up' and after the next chapter there is only the open road to go down. Who knows how long it will go! Thanks for sticking with me so far everyone :) I will try not to disappoint! )

Chapter Eleven:

Feel no sorrow, feel no shame, Come tomorrow, feel no pain

 

 

 

   Castiel finds a spot just inside the building to gather his thoughts. They scatter like chickens with a fox in the pen. He heaves a few deep breaths and looks out towards the semi trailer again. Michael is out there directing it around to aim the rear of it towards the now opening hanger doors. Castiel is startled when two of his team walk by, not noticing him standing just on the inside of the door, one saying, “The General really has a wide imagination doesn't he? He renamed it 'Spike'.”

   “I heard that the reason Michael got the dragon so cheap was because he lived up to his nickname of 'Man-eater'.”

   The other chuckled, “Better then his first name, I heard it was 'Freckles'.”

   “Oh yeah, and they're calling the mother 'Eve' since she's the first female dragon we've ever seen.

   “So shouldn't that make our boy Cain or Abel?” their voices fading out as they walked away.

   Castiel looked out at the trailer box again. “Freckles? Really? Does it have freckles? More importantly, _why_ does it have freckles? Is that supposed to help in camouflage?” he wondered out loud, wanting a closer look at the thing without the risk of bodily harm.

   It had been years since this building was used and it showed. Michael got it for cheap and fairly quickly when the whole deal was going down between him and the General. He had scouted out numerous locations for holding the mother dragon should his negotiations and meetings with the General go in his favor, but he never suspected that the General would have a 'spare' dragon he was willing to sell. He was more or less planning to get the first dragon in a year at least. Let the military have its new play thing until it becomes a hassle to take care of and he'd sweep in and take the burden from their hands when they got bored with it like an old dog that required more care then they're willing to give. It seemed to him that the government does that a lot. If they're not useful or new, it's replaced and destroyed.

   Michael was pleased and shocked that the General would keep the older mother and give up the young strong baby. He wondered for a moment if really was that big of a problem child. Michael decided it's better for him this way, they can train the bad habits out of it early, but still, he had no idea how big the baby dragon would be, knowing that it's not even 5 months old. He was expecting something under 10 feet tall. Here the dragon was, about 14 at the shoulder and another 9 on top of that to his head. Most people only came up to the thing's elbow. Michael really wanted the mother dragon, and that is still his end goal, but for now, the kid will do. He just has to prove to the military that they will benefit with Michael in charge of the two monstrous things. The rest of Michael’s time was spent trying to track down the mate for the mother so that he could learn how they reproduce. He didn't believe for a second that they reproduce asexually. The trace evidence of the first nest with the three destroyed eggs suggests that the DNA composition were all slightly different. There must be more dragons out there. For now, he will leave this prize in the care of his most trusted employee, Castiel. Even though the man was only hired recently, he showed his intellect and determination in every job he was assigned. He worked hard and lead his team well. Michael knew he could be trusted with this monumental task while he himself hunted down a way to get the mother and find the father of his offspring.

   Michael was pleased to see Castiel taking the news so well. The man was odd, always wearing that tan trench coat for one, and obviously excited, but he knew that the hard worker would sort himself out soon enough and get things together in his absence. Michael wished that he'd introduced Castiel to more things relating to the dragon before throwing him front and center, but, he had to make sure that the trench coat wearing cryptozoologist could be trusted. If he showed the world that one scale from the mother instead of just his room-mate, then there'd be problems. Michael looked into Balthazar's past and found him innocent enough. Ignoring the checkered past, Balthazar was all about finding out the truth in things and would be perfect for his leader's partner in this. Castiel always seemed more together with his friend around so Michael allowed Balthazar to be Castiel's adviser.

   Castiel goes back outside to stand close to the table where all the findings were still laying on it. He flips through a few pages in the folder and finds several DVD's that have markings similar to his own company's code for security camera's. All across the top edges were, 'Your Eyes Only', 'Top Secret', and other warnings which made his heart start pounding again. _He_ was the one these were for. He was in charge now. Everyone's gonna be looking to him for orders and answers...

   He needed a drink.

   Castiel turned around and regards the semi box that is already being backed into one of the smaller hanger doors of the warehouse. Leaving the enormous hanger doors closed to help with containment. The trailer keeps rocking side to side as the thing within keeps shifting or maybe ramming the walls as it's being moved. He hears a muffled roar and his nerves are alight with anxiety. The rumbling and movement settle once the semi stops with the rear of it a good 5 feet into the warehouse. Portable makeshift walls are being moved to the sides of the semi so that if the animal does get loose before being fully tranquilized, it wont be able to squeeze out of the door on either side of the trailer.

   Castiel notices that all they have to do is open both rear doors of the trailer to let it into the warehouse. Michael is busy talking to some of his own people, not really paying attention to the trailer or Castiel and his small team. Castiel is suddenly aware that his team is waiting for him to go with them into the warehouse. He tells them to take a few minutes to clean the space for the cage and to pick out where they want to set up their lab space and equipment. He knows that his team is almost as excited as he is and they get to work right away. Amiably chatting about what the future will hold for their careers if this pans out. Some talk about using the dragon like a war horse and soon a playfully yet passionate debate arises as the area is cleaned up and sanitized. His team chooses the spot closest to the generators and the few random tables that were left behind in the warehouse are being brought over and arranged as temporary base of operations.

   He is reminded that the dragon had actually burned down his previous holding facility and a lump forms in his throat. The new containment must be stronger then a damned _military base_. He is aware that the dragon can't produce flames but is unsure how that's possible. Or even how it was possible in the first place. At least the containment that he will build now doesn't have to withstand the fires that it can create. Small luxuries.

   Castiel looks around the mostly deserted building and carefully plans out where the best place to put the containing cage in the vast space. Far far away from the generators. If the dragon can still start fires, he will not make the same mistake the military made. Nothing that can explode will be within that things reach. His office is only a few hundred feet away from a good sized spot. That way all he has to do is leave the office door to see it.

   He figures that the cage would have to be built in only a few days because the dragon had already been cooped up in the semi box for at least two or three days with no other adequate housing or holding cage big enough.

   Castiel looks at the semi box in hidden anticipation as several contractors walk up to him and propose various holding containers. One of which was designed in such a way to keep the dragon from moving at all, _permanently_. It resembled a medieval rack used to torture people in dungeons. Castiel's face is disgusted when he sees that one and flips thru the other few containers blueprints. He ops to go for a souped up version of the elephant cage. He insists they make it 4 times as large as the dragon needs with huge bars of solid metal. He already got information from Michael on what the previous cages dimensions were, and a brief mention that the place the dragon was at before was just a pool for dolphins at a zoo. Castiel couldn’t believe his ears on that one. The specs he was given for the monster suggested that he would have been unable to move much in either cage. That's just... plain and simple animal cruelty.

   He points at the elephant cage and asks again that it be made 4 times as large as the blueprints suggest. He then listens to the details and they adjust everything accordingly. The dragon will be able to move around more, able to take a dozen steps before having to turn and take another dozen or so steps, and it can stand up straight with 7 feet to spare along the ceiling to allow for added growth. The wings are simply too huge to fit overstretched inside the building because the ceiling itself is only so high. Thankfully, the whole roof of the building was constructed to hold up several helicopters at once so it is more then strong enough to keep in an animal. He may be an immense monster, but he does not have any superpowers. If a trailer can keep him contained, Castiel is pretty sure this sturdy steel and cement building can do the job more then good enough. More iron bars are added in the altered design, same thickness, one whole wall of the cage will be the door but will be welded shut after the dragon enters and is sedated for the duration of the welding. Castiel took an idea from the General's cage and made sure that the bars are wide enough apart to let people in and out without trouble but the dragon is far to large to fit through. That way if there ever was a problem with the beast the men could easily run out of any part of the cage ... _if_ they make it to the cage wall.

   Castiel was pleased with it, glad that for once in its life it could take more then a few steps. The thing was just so huge that they couldn't do much better for it. The cage will take up the vast majority of the hanger with every other wall housing the humans and equipment. Giving the cage a wide berth for safety reasons. Meanwhile, construction has already started again. Before the General and everyone arrived, Michael had suggested where to put the cage and after his own consideration, Castiel figured that Michael's suggestion was best. The construction started on pouring the metal reinforced cement base early that morning. It was on hold while the negotiations were being held, but now the screech of metal being sawed and rumble of concrete being pounded and poured hurt his ears. He walked to the entrance of the building again, squinting at the sun. There was another smaller warehouse behind this one with numerous trucks and cement mixers, holding the raw materials temporarily, so that when the dragon did arrive, it wouldn't take long to build the custom made cage. Castiel was noticing a lot of things today, now that he has his breath and anxiety back under control. Ever since he got here he'd been on pins and needles. Michael didn't comment much beyond a wry statement, “You're gonna do fine, I trust you. Just don't slay my dragon.”

   Castiel grinned back and said he'd do his best. He then set about getting his team and the limited resources up and running. Getting plans worked out and arranged to have all of their things from their old labs and work places to be brought here so they did not have to commute for everything. Some even suggested bringing in a few mobile homes for those long nights where they just need a place to crash. Castiel said he'd think about it but that would make working out in this remote area more bearable if they had a few camper homes on location. Even if it's just for breaks in the day, and a Plan B for those that didn't want to drive the hour long distance from here to their homes. Castiel wondered how much of his new raise he could spend on an old camper to live in on site. Balthazar might throw a fit but he'll come around and probably use it too to stay close. Yeah. This could work.

   Castiel was busy, trying to direct a good two dozen people like a movie director. He inwardly grinned. He was finally getting the respect he longed for and deserved.

   Dean, meanwhile, is very confused as to what is going on. It had been so long since the tests started that he had forgotten where he came from before Master and Alistair. Everything kept _changing_. What new horrors can he expect to withstand now? Will he loose more of himself? He had a feeling he wasn't always this way. He sometimes had glimpses of parks and campgrounds, but these memories were also mixed with flashes of knives and silver bars. It was always painful to look back into his early memories. He was shocked far too many times in his lifetime. Too often to count. They didn't white out everything from his past but they did enough damage to his sanity in the process. There were fond memories of a young boy with shaggy hair and different memories of that same boy but as a man wielding a long rifle and shouting something to him before the memory fades to white then black. Something must have gone wrong, because that's the last time he knows he saw that tall shaggy haired man.

   Dean now took everything slowly if he was allowed. Most of the time he didn't care about anything that's going on around him. Why bother? He hated the way they would treat him because he knew his life had been vastly different. Not _better_ per say, but the feeling of freedom and free will gnawed at his insides, though he couldn’t say how it had been or how he knew. He was very confused and his lack of concentration in the former laboratories had led them to believe he was brain damaged and of no use to them anymore. He cost more to maintain then the benefits he gave. They already had his mother somewhere. He couldn't save her. Even he could see that she would be more valuable to them then him. She could give them more dragons if they wanted them. They just had to figure out how she did it without a male. He was just another huge mouth to feed. A trouble that wasn’t worth dealing with anymore. Stubborn, and combative, unlike the mother. The fire he set destroying the previous building and research didn't help matters _at all._

   He firmly stomped a foot to forget about those jerks. That was his past and this, he thought, must be his future. He would expect the worst and hope for the least worse. He leaned his large arrow shaped head against the wall of the box and listened intently to the goings on outside of his tiny metal coffin.

   Dean learned to recognize Tan coat's voice because his sounded kind, but authoritative. He must be the one in charge of this place because after everything he said, he heard a “Yes, Sir.”

   Tan coat got a call and answered it not too far from Dean's trailer. He kept saying the word Balth over and over and sounded upset, then resigned. Dean could make out Tan coat saying, “Just don't get in the way, Balth.” before hanging up. The guy then looked down the road and sighed heavily before going over to Michael and saying some words. Michael then waved his hand, like saying, 'No matter,' and then a relieved look in Tan coat's eyes. He looked towards the trailer again, and looked directly at Dean who stared right back. A moment passed with them just looking at each other. Finally a word from someone behind Tan coat got his attention and he went back to the table outside. Going over the folder some white coat's gave him.

   Dean mumbled to himself, 'I really should start learning some of the biped's names. Make life easier for me. If only they'd actually _tell me_.'

   Tan coat just sat down at the table, not really facing his trailer but Dean watched him read. This being only slightly more entertaining then watching blood dry. The warp in the porthole window only allowed direct line of sight to be seen by him. He had to move his head constantly in front of it to make out what was beyond. His eyes were just too big and far from the end of his nose to look through it easier. He had to angle his head to be parallel with the door and look out with just one eye to his extreme right and therefore fuzzed every image he could see. If he were a prey animal this would be a piece of pie but he had forward facing eyes to hunt better. He huffed at the door and its window. Apparently Tan coat heard him and looked over to his window, cocking his head to the side and squinting. Maybe Tan coat had bad eyesight too.

   Dean nosed at the door. Sniffing at the seams for some fresh air. The small vent towards the front was not very adequate for his needs. He said to Tan coat, 'I can't breath in here. Wanna open the door for me?'

   Tan coat just kept on squinting and eventually went back to reading from the folder. Dean sighed, 'Worth a shot.' before laying back down and dozing some more. Nothing was happening and it strained his neck to hold it at that angle. Just not enough room to stretch out. Days like this. He wondered if he will ever get to stand upright again. Because it doesn't look like anyone's gonna let him out anytime soon. He shuffled forward a little and looked out of the window again. Startled to see blue eyes and messy black hair on the other side of the porthole. Tan coat was _right there._ He looked like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn’t and quickly left. He did not fall away this time and Dean gave him kudos for that.

   A beaten up car pulled into the area and Tan coat went over to greet the newcomer. They hugged and the new guy was talking excitedly with Tan coat. The word Balth was thrown around again and Dean realized that was this new guy's name. Likewise, Balth was saying the name 'Cassie' over and over again. So Tan coat is Cassie. Ok. Sounds weird, but ok.

   Cassie brought Balth up to the trailer and gave a few warnings, “Don't agitated it too much. Don't poke the bear.” Cassie then put his hand on Balth's shoulder and angled his friend to the porthole window. Dean pulled his head back from it. Balth tentatively got up onto the step and looked inside.

   “Well done Cassie! Well done! He looks amazing!”

   “I didn't do anything. Michael is the one that bought him.”

   “Yes, but it's your hard work that got you this position! And if it weren't for yours truly, you wouldn’t have gotten that job in the first place. Isn't that right?” Balth said cheekily. This earned him a roll of the eyes from Cassie.

   “Of course. All hail the mighty Balthazar, seeker of job openings and best friends to freaks. All hail!” Cassie bowed and chuckled behind Balth.

   “No, no, this is all you. All bow before Castiel! Ruler of the mighty dragon... er... you said his name is _Freckles_?” Balthazar's hands fell to his sides and gave a questioning look to his friend.

   “Apparently. Not just the only name, the General called him 'Spike' and some called him 'man-eater'. Pretty sure it's an exaggeration. I'm gonna think of something better. No way in hell am I putting 'Freckles' on the tops of all of his test results.”

   With a firm nod, Dean thumped a heavy fist to the floor inside the trailer and said, 'Damn straight!' which scared the hell out of the bipeds. 'Just make it cool, man.' He added. Both bipeds outside gave a nervous laugh before Balth got down and they started talking amongst themselves about what Cassie was expected to do with the dragon.  
Apparently the conditions of the sale to Michael stipulated that Michael had to see if he could find a place for the dragon in the military somehow. Reproducing the chemical compounds of his liquid flame into future weapons. Finding out how his brain chemistry works, his motor skills in working multiple limbs, healing properties, flame proofing his own skin, finding out how his skin is also bulletproof and resistant to outside damage. The main fault in it being that knifes can separate the layers with relative ease. It was more resistant to blunt force then it was to cuts. If there were knights in shining armor going after dragons, swords would do the trick better then clubs.

   Castiel read all of this while waiting for Balthazar to show up. He read up on the fragments of reports that came in from the recovery team that found the young dragon in that zoo. Most of the information went up in smoke when the building came down. Nearly all of the tests on the dragon were also destroyed but some were recreated from the reports that a few of the scientists working on it re-typed up for Michael. Just so that Michael's team wouldn't have to repeat too many of the tests. The ones that weren't finished with computer or digital analysis of the results would have to be reproduced however. It takes weeks for some tests to be completed and they only had the dragon less then a week before the fire was set. The biological tests that require time to set would be fairly easy to do again. So long as it was non-invasive and painless for the dragon. Thankfully the blood samples did make it out of the fire so that eliminated the need to draw more. For now at least. He wanted to build up some trust between the scientist and subject before asking him for the harder to reach samples. Michael hinted at brain tissue samples and even though Castiel was also curious as hell, he wanted to wait on those kinds of tests for later. Thankfully the military did not do them. Who knows what kind of brain damage they'd do to the thing. Better to do non-invasive's first, then behavioral, and then the in-depth tests.

   Castiel was actually quite excited to be doing any tests himself. Making sure it was done right by his team that he trusted implicitly. He was warned by a few of the female soldiers not to forcefully remove his scales when it comes time for him to shed them. Apparently they saw the dragon start to shed some of the outer layer and decided to help out by cutting it off. That led to massive skin abrasions for the poor thing and most of them dug too deep with their knives. Castiel shuddered when he read what they reported and the few photo's that were rescued. The dragon looked like it had been skinned alive. Which, wasn't too far off. The raw redness didn't show up right away so they kept on cutting. Castiel had to stop reading at that. He put a hand to his mouth and wanted to throw up more now then ever out of disgust. No invasive skin tests. Period.

   The trailer was still, some movement was heard but not seen. Castiel made a promise to that thing that they would be more humane and kind in their tests then that. Make damn sure that the dragon was ok and unharmed. Most of what they needed to learn from it did not require those kinds of tests. It was more about behavioral and intelligence, how would he react to different stimuli, commands, how does he learn. Is it through visual? Hereditary imprinting? Does he learn through actions and experiences of his own or can he learn through examples, abstract thought, and storytelling.

   Castiel's head swam. So much work ahead. Balthazar was busy chatting away a one sided conversation to Castiel's earlobe while his mind was busy thinking about paperwork and theories.

   Dean tried to listen closer to the conversations Cassie had with that other biped. Balth had a different way of speaking, his words sounded differently. Still English, but slightly different. Balth's speech was filled with anticipation and he hadn’t said one pessimistic sentence in the whole hour he spoke with Cassie.

   Castiel meanwhile was inclined to listen to him, but to correct his friend when the projections of progress seemed too  far fetched for such an unknown venture. In reality, Castiel wanted to believe everything Balthazar said, that they could rehabilitate the animal and teach it things. Castiel had a daydream that he would be able to let the dragon loose from his cage without worrying about how it would react. Hoping that it wouldn't just fly away or start attacking people the second it got out. Castiel found himself wishing that the dragon would act like any other person, decent, kind and understanding. That was a far fetched idea. It was a monster after all. One that has no regard for human life as it set fire to the building. Uncaring that there were over a hundred people inside that could have died. Just looking at it proves that it could kill with ease. If they weren’t gifted with the munitions with that plant supplement inside the rounds, he doubts they would be able to stop it at all.

   They will just have to be extra careful in handling the beast. Even if it showed signs of mercy, it could be a ploy to gain sympathy or trust from the humans. Waiting long enough for them to slip up and assume it's harmless, then make its attack. He'd have to find out the things intentions before allowing it any kind of freedom. He was in charge of this facility. Responsible for everyone's safety. Michael put him in charge and he has a job to do. Find out what he can about the thing and see if any part of it can be used to further military technology or innovations. Michael wanted to know if they could use the animal himself to sic on the enemy. He even wrote out a plan of action for when Castiel was done testing it. Castiel could not say no, Michael may have put him in charge of this base, but he is the one that owns the dragon and everything inside except for the people. Castiel could be replaced easily if Michael was not impressed with his work.

   After just a few minutes of looking at the poor tortured thing, Castiel couldn’t let it fall into the wrong hands. Someone that would not care about its comfort or sanity. He wished he could let it out of its cage, to be free for just five minutes, but he knew that because he had the 20 armed soldiers at his disposal directly from the destroyed base, that he would not be allowed many liberties with the animal. Castiel was to test it, then train it to fight, and then sending it overseas to destroy all who threatened the US. It sounded more like a bad sci-fi movie plot then real science. He entertained the idea nonetheless, and Castiel thought its sheer size would be enough to scare them, there should be no need for warfare. He knew that his grip of control in the warehouse was wire thin and if he strayed too far from the objective he would be discharged and a ruthless official could be put in charge.

   That thought made him uneasy. The dragon's been through enough. Evidence of real torture was found on its hide when it first showed up at the General's base. They had the mother and knew what a healthy dragon _should_ look like, and Freckles was not in any way shape or form, healthy. Freckle's bones protruded everywhere, like a starved dog. His horns belied several blows to them, chips and cracks all along them. And at the base of his teeth and horns in some of the photos proved that he was electrocuted numerous times. They were char black and inflamed. His eyes though, they showed a lifetime of pain. Distrust. Stress and above all that, he could see how broken the young thing was. He hid it well, growling and roaring at every intrusion in his personal space, but, from just that quick look himself, Castiel knew that his work was cut out for him. Freckles looked sick, famished and beat. Even people that had no reference for how a dragon should look could tell that he had a terrible life.

   Castiel saw a single photo of the mother in with the folder for his dragon. She was _massive_. Toned muscles that complimented a sleek body. There was evidence of that firefight that he'd heard about months ago when Balth first showed him evidence of her existence. The military was not kind when it captured her and it showed. The photo displayed her body's resilience to their attack but when he looked closer, and noticed the body's posture, her eyes, her expression, she looked sad. That's the only word that best fits. She was sad. Castiel looked at the date and it was a few days after she was captured. A few days after she lost her offspring.

   He looked to the trailer again, trying to picture that huge monster being small enough to bundle into a normal vehicle and taken away from his mother. It was not the first or last time he'd feel sympathy for the creature but it did make his heart hurt. He knows what it's like to loose someone you love.

   Castiel tried to calm his nerves and his thoughts with a cup of spiked coffee. There weren't many creature comforts in the warehouse but there was a small coffee/refreshments bar to be stocked with the food for all the soldiers being brought in. The bar was to be placed in the break room along the completely opposite side of the building. Coincidentally, his team set up shop closer to that and the generators for convenience sake. The military personnel hunkered down wherever there was a free spot out of the way, because they were just on loan from the General for a little while while they get the cage built and the mini base up and running. Castiel had his office, which had been gutted almost completely when the former owners wanted everything up to and including the kitchen sink from the premises, so Castiel’s rations were in his office’s closet. At the moment, all of his team had stored their personal effects in his office since it still had a lock on the door and Castiel was ok with looking after their things for now. Purses, satchels and other backpacks and bags of food were all lined up like ducks in a row along his back wall behind the desk. Out of sight from anyone that didn't fully enter his office.

   He made a mental note to buy a coffeemaker of his own so he wouldn't have to steal precious coffee making time from his team. They practically lived on the black gold. He also had a stray thought to bring in some kind of television entertainment as well, and if Michael asks, he could say that this would be easier to train the dragon on what goes on in the real world. So as not to surprise it by what sounds go on in cities versus this quiet valley. Yeah. That might actually work.

   Castiel checked up on his meager rations that Balth had brought him, finding mostly ready to eat foods, IE pop tarts, and half filled liquor bottles. Balthazar chucked as he handed over the bag of food from their pantry and dubbed it, “Food of the gods.”

   Castiel preferred to refer them as rations but in reality he had his car and easy access to the local grocery store and stock up his closet with doughnuts, trail mix, and pop. Castiel isn't that big of a drinker, but enjoys a good blue label whiskey when the mood hits him. Surprisingly one of the main reasons he did not drink is because it takes a hell of a lot to get him properly drunk. Balth learned not to challenge him to drinking games because he would always find himself 4 sheets to the wind with Castiel handing him a bucket at the side of his bed and aspirin without so much as hint of hangover in those blue eyes. Blue label seemed to do the trick well enough for him, but his crew had nearly stocked the bar with domestic beer and tequila, almost before is was finished being built.

   All around the warehouse there was action. It was hard for Dean to distinguish one sound from another when a loud truck rolled up past the semi box. This startled him and he nearly jumped. He whipped his head around to the front then side of the semi box tracking this new noise. He crawled/walked over to one side of the box where he guessed the sound was coming from and pressed his ear against the wall. He definitely heard mooing. He involuntarily began to salivate. He licked his lips with his long narrow fork shaped tongue in anticipation. He vaguely remembered what cooked meat tasted like but he was only allowed fresh raw meat to eat, none of it prepared beyond cutting it up for him. Half the time they didn't even bother with that step and would just throw the carcass into his cages. He longed for a good hunt. Just once. He wouldn't promise that he would return, but one hunt would be awesome right about now. To feel the unhindered breeze in a field, the taste of water that did not come from a hose. The feel of real dirt under his feet. Dean sighed heavily and listened to the activity all around his metal box. Since this was early spring, he guessed, the air was still crisp and chilly. He could barely see his breaths but everyone else was puffing out smoke with every exhale. That was a tell for the bipeds for how they're feeling. Most of them must be scared of him because he'd see so much more of those clouds around them. Breathing hard and fast whenever he made a sound. The place he was before was warmer then this. He must be more northern now. He longed for his first home in the mountains and the forest. Now, his forest was made of iron bars. The animals all walked on two legs or were mooing. 'Just please, some variety? A window? Anything living that wont hurt me with knives and needles and shock? Or animals that I can just _look at_ and _not_ have to eat?' he moaned a little. 'I can see why bipeds have pets now. Since they live in these hard lifeless buildings, they fill them with animals to make them feel better. The animals may hate it, but who cares? So long as the bipeds are happy.' he thought and sighed again, 'I hate being a pet. But, I prefer that to torture test subject.' he thought miserably as he looked out at all the bipeds and their puffing breaths whipping into the chilly air.

   Balthazar left shortly after handing over the bag of snacks and talking with him for a little while. He wasn't a full member of the team and was barely tolerated by Michael. They did not want to piss off Castiel's boss on the first day. Castiel promised his friend more face time with the monster when things all settle down. Balthazar insisted Castiel keep in touch but since he couldn’t just be on the phone with him 24-7, Castiel agreed to let Balth spy on him and left a camera in his office aimed at his desk. They would adjust the angle once the big cage was done being built and a dragon resided within it. Balthazar worried about his friend. Rightly so, because of his test subject matter. Balthazar promised that he's just a quick 40 minute drive away if Castiel needs him.

   Castiel went into his office which was almost completed, and sat down in his borrowed chair and looked at his empty desk. He opened up his empty file cabinet and placed one of the folders he was given in it. He is productive. See? Already a good boss. Organized. Efficient. Castiel opened up one of the other folders explaining his objective given to him by his superiors and Michael. He leafed through it and read some of the absurd qualifications the dragon must accomplish. Then slowly drifted off to sleep. All the excitement today drained him. He slept maybe an hour last night, and that was after Balthazar slipped a sleeping pill into his beer bottle. A nightmare woke him up before the rest could do any good. Indistinct monsters and teeth and fire.

   The dragon, in the meantime, was still listening intently to the cows in the semi box next to his. He laid down next to the wall and slept. Suddenly the door banged open and a large hunk of red raw meat was thrown in and the door slammed shut again a few seconds later. He jumped at the sound and wildly looked around for the source of the noise. He looked down at the raw meat with disgust and tried to ignore the fact he was starving.

   Ten minutes went by and his gaze went to the slung meat more often. If only they let him kill something... this was no fun at all. He sighed and walked over to it and started to eat. Deciding to take two large gulps and be done with it. After he ate it, he spat out some of the blood and viscera and turned around so he wouldn’t have to look at the stain on the floor, a swish of his tail covered the spot with some hay. He started to lay down when the door opened again, slower and quieter this time.

   This caught his attention more then the slamming, because they are careful in not startling him, they must want to look at him. He pretended to tiredly lay down facing the opposite direction of the door but his ears were pointed right at it. One footstep inside his box, two. His muscles tensed, ready. Gonna scare the shit out of that asshole that thinks he's some kind of attraction to ogle.

   Then a sharp pain struck him on his side. Startled, he yelped and roared. The door was still open but the man ran out in panic, tripping and falling right off of the small ledge beyond the door. Dean spun around and growled menacingly when he noticed the door was open. He made a quick lunge for it and got his head out of it just in time to see the two men that were trying to close the door, leap back along with the darter. He muscled his head out of the door, metal screeching as his horns shoved both sides away to make room, and his neck stretched out as long as it could out of the door. There was no way in hell he could fit out that small door but at least he would have the satisfaction of clearly seeing where he was and what was going on. He looked all about with deep interest, all the while acting fierce and rabid to ward off anyone that tried to get close. Snapping headlong at several bipeds that ran forward with guns at the ready. The trailer swayed a little and he raised his head higher and closer to the trailer to keep the whole thing balanced because he didn’t feel like face planting into the ground with his body and trailer pinning down his neck and head. Talk about awkward. He stopped growling when he saw the enormous warehouse and realized that this must be his final location. He wasn’t going to be traveling anywhere again. The permanence of the place was depressing. It looked far more sturdy then that other building he was in and it was in a huge flat land with nowhere to hide even if he _did_ escape from the place. They'd be able to shoot him down before he could get halfway to the closest cover. He squinted into the distance. No discernible landmarks anywhere to tell him where he was in relation to home. Any of them.

   Dean was, however, relieved to be getting a wider confinement where he can at least turn around easily. That was something. More bipeds came around. Some even took pictures instead of picking up a gun. He looked at the camera and growled low. Dean began to feel very tired suddenly. All the action sped up the process of the herb based anesthetic.

   Castiel leaped out of his chair at the first sound of the deep yelp, and was out his door before the roar. He ran outside to watch with awe at the length of the neck and the sharpness of his head as it emerged from the rocking trailer. This is his first sight of the dragon without anything in the way. He had been given photographs of it when the dragon was in the General's care, but the flash on a camera only goes 20 feet, and at 10 feet outside of the semi box, the scaled and spike ridged neck ended and the massive, horned and spiked head snapped and roared at anyone that got close. The trailer listed towards that side, and the dragon seemed to read Castiel's mind because he lifted his head and neck just then to keep the trailer from falling. The head spun around towards the warehouse. Castiel though it was eyeballing him and he stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at the monster but slowly realized it was focusing his scrutinizing gaze past him. Castiel locked onto the head that lowered and sighed, every exhale loosing some height and energy as it slowly rested on the ground, rolling on its side. The dragon was fast asleep. It would be 10 full minutes before anyone moved towards it. The thing laid there, dormant, snoring softly with his eyes half open. This freaked many of the men out as they thought he was faking it and would lunge again as soon as they got close enough.

   Castiel however couldn’t see the things eyes and could hear his snoring. After deciding that no one could fake a snore like that, he started to walk closer. A few men behind him borrowed his strength and followed him. Castiel knelt down very slowly and carefully next to the head and with a forced sense of calm, put his hand out. From this close, he could see why they nicknamed the thing Freckles. There were scores of small brown dots all over the cheeks and nose and along the underside of the neck leading into the trailer. The body beyond blocking the rest of its form. He was amazed that this thing was less then 5 months old. He gingerly touched the scaled cheek, expecting it to be rough but found it oddly silky. Like snakeskin. The softness was only on the more flexible parts of the face, around its jaw, eyes, nostrils and mouth, the rest turning hard like armor. Castiel made contact with the scales, holding a tense breath. Just waiting to loose his arm in the things mouth. No reaction.

   Castiel let out the breath and stoked his hand from the cheek on back to his neck, feeling the pulse under the skin. The spikes along the animal's jaw became sharp then soft again around the weird fan ears. He held the leading edge in-between his hands and felt that they were not too ridged at the base, but the parts the flared out were. The longish spines between the thin flexible membrane of the fans. He toyed with it for a few seconds, finding out how they work to funnel sound waves into the ear canal. He wiped off his hands and distantly noticed that his team was hovering nearby. His attention was firmly set on the 400 lb head in front of him. It was bigger then he thought from the pictures and his own observations earlier. The dragon's head was at least 4 feet long from snout to the back of the skull, the horns going further for nearly a foot and a half. The whole thing looked like an arrow from above. Streamline. His hands now moved of their own accord as the next stroke went from his soft nose to the top of his head in soothing strokes. Castiel stood up and moved to the biggest part of the head and pulled the monster's head so it was right side up and closed the dragon's unseeing eyes to keep them from drying out.

   This final act reassured the others that the monster was indeed asleep because no one was able to get anywhere near that close to him without fierce retribution. Castiel sat on his haunches looking and touching the monster's face for a short while. Once his curiosity was satisfied for now, Castiel stood and ordered the soldiers on loan to get the dragon back into the trailer. Hey had to open up the rear doors to the trailer and pull it back from the small door. A couple of caterpillars were used to pull on the dragon's hind legs. Castiel wished that his new cage was built already because this act of moving a dragon without a permanent, safe, holding cell was nerve wracking. It moaned slightly as several brave men went along his neck and lifted up their section and slowly put his back into the semi box. last to go into the trailer was his head held by 3 large men because it was so freakin' _big_. They flattened out his head as much as possible, taking care of the side fan ears and the spikes that aimed backwards from the front, and eased it in through the door and shut it and locked it. The rear hatch closed after the rear end was shoved back into the trailer along with the tail that had lazily flipped out. Some soldiers went for guns, thinking that it was awake but Castiel recognized it for what it was, just a sleepy adjustment into a better position. All of the men sighed once all of the trailers doors were shut, secured, and locked. Some fell where they stood, exhausted.

   Castiel stood staring at the door and realized he may be in way over his head.

   Dean woke the next morning to find himself partially covered in straw, with straw piled up all along the bottom and edges of his area. It was nice to have some cushioning, but he found himself longing for the other cage, the one with the foam padding. He mentally cringed at that. No way in hell is he gonna pine for the past. Best to ignore it and deal with whatever comes his way. Dean was still very tired and found that his limbs would not move freely but if he focused hard enough, he could move his head. He dragged it laboriously over the hay covered floor and looked first to his own body. Not tied or chained. Feet and hands were free to move if he had the strength. He crossed his eyes to his nose and found nothing binding his mouth shut. He looked back and there was nothing binding his wings either. Huh.

   Dean rested for a minute, both his head and mind, considering what all this implies or could imply. He can _move_. They want him to be comfortable, otherwise they wouldn't have given him the hay for bedding. It was actually quite nice because once he got his strength back, he could make a nest out of it. That would be _sweet_. Without sticks and logs it wouldn't be a proper nest but still, at least he could make it how he likes it. A grin formed on his lips. The scent of the fresh hay was nice too. More earthy. His nose sunk into it and he inhaled the soft scents, eyes fluttering closed for a second. He lifted up his head a few inches from the ground and decided to watch the man that seemed to be in charge. Dean dragged his chin on the soft ground and finally rested it once it reached its destination. He sighed heavily and accidentally alerted some of the workers that he was indeed awake. He ignored them and continued to stare at Tan coat. Or what was his name again? Cassie? Too long. How about just _Cas_. That's more fitting, less girly. Dean just watched him in his office. The door ajar and the desk beyond aligned perfectly with his resting head.

   It was a few minutes before Castiel realized this of course, he was working slowly through the old log reports for what little information they had saved on the massive beast. He sighed heavily himself at the mess and picked up his coffee to take a stroll around his warehouse. Still recovering from the night before when Balthazar questioned him mercilously and then had the gall to order him to bed. Going so far as to drugging him again. Castiel had a good idea what the ward in his charge felt like to be drugged against your will. Not the first time Castiel had been drugged into sleeping. A brief memory of his Ex-wife Meg popped unhelpfully into his mind and he sneered at nothing in particular as he tried to get her image out of his head again. She's long gone and nothing to him now. Disappeared off the face of the earth months ago. Balth admitted that he and his friends, Wes and Brandon did a search for her to royally bitch her out, but found no new leads.

   Thoughtfully sipping his third cup of coffee that morning, he wandered over to the men working on the finishing touches to the thick bars of the large door/wall that were being welded back into place.

   “Mornin'.” he greeted one of the construction workers.

   “Morning Sir, we should have this done before noon.”

   “And not a moment too soon.” Another one piped up, “Your boyfriend is waking up, Sir.” He chuckled good-naturedly.

   Castiel squinted and cocked his head in confusion and glanced over to the other end of the cage. He was a little startled to see that the thing was staring directly at him. He walked to the left, and then the right and was amazed that it was watching him, and him alone.

   “Remarkable.” Castiel said and rested a hand on the thick iron bars.

   “Just remember not to get this close to the cage when he is fully awake and alert. He can reach about a dozen feet further then these bars with that tail of his. His head can't get past them though, lucky for us. Those big ol' horns on his head are too spread out for it to fit. I recon' that he can get about most of it out, just behind his eyes but that's about it. His arms can fit to his shoulder, and though I doubt it, but he could pro'lly fit his legs out too up to the knee. his wings could stretch all the way out, but that's unlikely because he would have to be sitting or standing upright like a person to do it. Bottom line is, he can reach you, so don't get too comfortable getting this close in the future.”

   Castiel nodded thoughtfully and kept looking at the massive lump of mythical fire beast.

   Dean grumbled a little at being on display again, but was less depressed then before. From what he could see, his new 'living quarters' were by far the largest they've ever been, and he was looking forward to _finally_ stretching out. He lifted up his head and moved it slowly back to Cas's desk before the biped got there, not wanting to miss anything he did in there.

   Castiel stopped in mid step when he realized what the dragon had done. He cautiously walked up to the cage, closest to its head. Their noses no more then 10 feet apart. The damned thing seemed to give a kind of understanding and intelligence. And though he felt a little foolish, Castiel considered making a formal introduction.

   He waved at him and Dean blinked back, still drugged nearly out of his mind from the muscle relaxant. Dean's eyes trailed off to his left hand and it moved sideways on the ground. He bared his teeth at it and tried to lift his arm this time. Quickly giving a sideways glance at Cas, briefly forgetting that his teeth frighten most people, and he usually would be punished for showing them at all. But the tan coat wearing biped just stood there, sipping on his coffee, watching him as if he were an exotic zoo animal. Dean wondered if he was waiting for him to respond to the greeting, and he tried again. He had almost lifted up his heavy arm and was ready to move his hand when someone came up from behind Cas with some reports.

   Dean gaped at the audacity of this newcomer, as he had almost made a real connection, with someone that he actually _wanted_ to connect to, for the first time since Meg. He couldn’t suppress a growl and hissed at this new person in agitation.

   “Come on, Castiel, you don't want to stand too close to it. It's too dangerous. Let's talk in your office.”

   Dean raised his arm up high and growled for attention but to the bipeds it only looked like he was readying an attack. Other men backed up away from the cage and waited with guns trained and poised for the inevitable assault.

   Castiel heard the sharp clacks of the rifles and stopped and turned back towards the cage. “Wait! Wait, you don't need to do that! He's penned up. That's the whole point of it, he can't hurt anyone anymore.” Castiel explained, walking to the nervous armed men. He stood between them and the cage. “I don't want to see anyone pointing a gun at this thing. Not while I'm here.. and even if I'm not here.” he added almost like an afterthought. As a leader you have to be crystal clear on your orders. If there is anything left for interpretation, then all hell could break loose.

   “Sir, they have already been given orders to always be armed and ready. Would you deny these men the right to defend themselves?”

   “He is not going to hurt anyone. Just be _careful enough_ so that the guns are unnecessary.” Castiel said, taking a quick glance at the dragon.

   The thing almost seemed to be smiling at him, but the rest of the soldiers and even some of his own team were betting that the dragon was choosing their boss to be his first victim. 'What was that? No way in hell did the dragon just wave at me.' Castiel saw it out of the corner of his eye, but when he had turned around, it had to let its arm drop again to maintain his balance. His head too dropped down and he laid there, grinning tiredly at him.

   “Remarkable.” Castiel said again. He was ushered back to his desk where they continued to talk out of range of the others.

   Dean grunted and dozed a little, knowing that it would probably be a little while before the boss would come out again. Maybe never. No point in exerting himself right now. After an hour, he heard the clang of some tools falling and jerked his head up to see what had happened. The workers were finished with his cage and he seemed to be able to move more freely now. His limbs were sore and he hesitated to stand up. First up for business, sitting on his haunches. It took a few tries but he was able to scoot his forelegs back one at a time and get his heavy head and neck up and balanced over his shoulders in a tight 'S' shape. 'There, sitting up like a pro. Good job. Now you can rest for a hot minute. That took a lot out of you.'

   He shook off the straw that they had covered him with. Dean hadn’t expected that kindness and wanted to thank whoever did that for him. The building did have a few heaters in it but they were closer to the biped's work stations. Dean could smell the hot metal coils coming from the boss's office as well. That would be sweet. Just curl up in there with the heaters. That tan coated Cas was lucky. Since it was cold outside it was chilly inside the warehouse, and Dean was mainly coldblooded, so he was sluggish and cold. A part of him wanted to continue to snuggle up in the warm straw but he wanted more to explore his new surroundings. He stretched out his front legs and clawed at the cement floor, leaving slight marks in its surface. He hefted his head and long neck forward and rested them on the ground while he straightened out his back legs and stiffened them to wake up the muscles. The joints ached a little but the more he stretched them he could feel them loosen. The muscles jumping over the bones and back again as he tensed and released them. Pins and needles. Everywhere. He pushed his forelegs back again one clumsy step at a time and was standing up again for the first time in days. Wings still drooping to the floor like he was covered in a blanket. Focus on the main stuff first. The biggest muscles then work the way on down.

   He took some steps forward to be able to stretch out his tail to its full length as well. It was still very much asleep. He must have been laying on it. Dean moved his head over to the bars and tried to look up at his horns, knowing he couldn't see them but his body tried anyway. He knew he could not fit his whole head through the bars, but he decided to use the bars to help crack the length of his neck. So, he hooked the horns onto the bars, biting onto a lower part of the same bar and gave a quick pulling twisting motion of his neck and shoulders. He felt the string of pings travel all the way down and up his neck to the back of his head which now felt a little dizzy with the shock and relief of the built up tension. A series of loud cracks had been heard echoing around the room. He pulled his horns back out, scooted back a couple of feet and bit the bars ahead of him again aligning his head, neck, and spine, in a roughly horizontal line, and did a similar move with his spine. his wings were awake enough to lift out at his sides and flapped side to side to facilitate this back cracking movement and he licked his lips after letting go of the iron bars. He heaved a few heavy breaths and bounced his back up and down to get those last stubborn few vertebra. Another dizzy spell. He stood still for a moment until it passed.

   Next up, was his perpetually curled tail. He was amazed that he did not have to curl his neck to stretch out his tail and was now able, for the first time in memory, move every limb, wing, and his tail and neck to its absolute fullest length, and _not_ touch a single thing besides the floor and ceiling. If he could laugh, he would have been in heaven. A series of huffs came out instead and he grinned like a loon. It would take a few days to let his bones and muscles get used to this wonderful freedom of movement but he would relish and enjoy every second of it.

   Dean noticed that a fair number of bipeds were videotaping him, and writing down his every action on notepads. He sneered at them but wouldn’t allow them to take away this new-found pleasure. A couple of them walked to the front of the cage and posed for a picture, with him as the background. He ignored them too, and after a few minutes of standing and stretching he flapped his wings at them, messing up the next round of photos. He grinned at them, as they laughed and shot more and more footage. At first, the cameras were documenting, but now they were fooling around. He noticed a large group photo was in the works, and since his cage filled up most of the warehouse, they had to back up nearly right next too it for the photographer to get everyone in the pic. He paced back and forth, watching these short bipeds scurry about excitedly in front of him, trying to find the people they wanted to stand next to. Like excited puppies. Then he saw Cas exit his office, leaning against the frame and drinking something brown from a clear glass. He wanted him to join in the group shot and let out a quick roar at him as invitation.

   Nearly all of the soldiers went for their guns and were aiming them right at his head. Startled, he backed up and roared at Cas again out of fear. If anyone could save him that biped could. He ordered them yesterday to stand down. Dean backed up from the soldiers and whine growled at Cas, 'help me? I just wanted you to join in and now they wanna shoot me!'

   Castiel angrily strode over to the cage and shoved the men out of the way to stand in-between the cage and them again. But this time he was _pissed_.

   “Do you not know how to take orders? Stay away from this monster or else you will all be killed!” He shouted and jabbed a finger up at the dragon. He then addressed the ones that were still standing close to the cage. “What the hell do you think you are doing? He can reach out and rip you to shreds before you’ve even realized you’re screwed! Give me that camera!” he demanded, and some of the men who had posed for the pictures quickly made themselves scarce. He scrolled through the shots and frowned at each one. “Are we paying you to fool around?” he cussed under his breath and deleted most of the pictures that had men in them that were clearly not for documentation. He paused at one and noticed the dragon in the background. He zoomed into his head and stood there, quiet for a moment. Ignoring the three men in the front, he saw that the dragon had his tongue hanging out and one eye squinting with the side fan ears spread wide. He wondered if it was just poor timing, or if the thing was actually making a goofy face at them to ruin their picture. What did Balth call it? A photograph bomb?

  “No, he's not smart enough to know what a photo is.” Castiel muttered to himself.

   Dean heard him and hung his head, moaning softly. Dean dearly wanted to apologize for the misbehaving, but instead told himself that it wasn’t _him_ that was goofing off. The dragon didn't have a job to shrug off, besides just being what he is, and he could do that in his _sleep_.

   Castiel turned around, frowning at the monster in clear disappointment. “I really thought we had something here, but he might be a dumb critter after all.” he stated, letting the hand holding the camera fall to his side.

   Dean's heart sunk at that and he laid down, curling his head down and close to his side and covered it up with a wing. Hiding from the shame of being a stupid animal. His fears now confirmed. If someone like Cas thought he was dumb, then it must be true. Cas ruled over everyone here, he knows what he's talking about. If he thinks Dean is stupid, then he is. Dean could have cried. He felt abandoned all over again.

   Meanwhile, the others were going back to their duties and when the boss turned back to his office, they hastily deleted the photos they had taken of themselves with the dragon before they were found out as well. The few that had been caught were soon ordered to do manure detail. A few, as apology, volunteered to feed the dragon and soon Dean smelled fresh dead cow being flung into his cage. The wet smack of its flesh against the cement sounded anything but appetizing. He could tell that the chunks were huge, as much biped grunting could be heard before the sound of it landing. He refused to eat. That would give them the idea that he forgives them for getting him in trouble as well. Tricking the stupid, mindless beast. How cruel could bipeds be?

   After a few quiet hours had passed, Dean lifted his wing up again and noticed that the place was clearing out of bipeds. Equipment being shut off, stowed away or set up for the next morning. The sun was setting and the door to Cas' office was again opened. He held a square bag with a long strap around his shoulder with the tan coat in that hand and fiddled for his car keys with the other. Clearly exhausted from the day and longing for a warm bed. This warehouse was still too empty and cold feeling. He locked up his office and felt the chill in the air before he even got close to open up the warehouse door to the outside. Must be freezing out there.

   Castiel took a few steps away from his office and looked towards the monster in the cage. Feeling a little bad that he couldn’t heat up the warehouse better for the huge thing. It probably doesn't even care about the temperature. At least it's inside now, unlike that zoo he was told about. He was not allowed every report on the monster, his level of need to know info only goes as far as Michael's. Which is to say, not very. Michael made sure to share as much as he could, but given that the military only had the dragon for a week or so, they only had so much to give. They gathered information from his previous location, the zoo from down south, but what happened there was anyone's guess. Only the dragon and God knows what happened there for sure. Clear evidence of torture was everywhere, but what they did exactly was a mystery. How far did his previous owners go in 'training' him?

   Castiel most certainly _did not_ want to think about that just before leaving for home and his waiting bed. He already had a hard enough time sleeping, he needed a full nights sleep tonight and nightmares are not on the menu. He gave the dragon a quick appraising survey to make sure it was still alive and well.

   Dean saw the boss man leave his office and went to attention, standing up and facing him with all the respect that the boss deserves. Once he got Cas's attention, Dean hung his head down low to be eye to eye with the short man. He gave a very soft mewling growl, almost like a croon as he apologized over and over again. Dean no longer hated the workers, and found most of them to be innocuous and easily ignored. He was anticipating, not looking forward to but simply expecting, some form of physical torment but received none for his bad behavior. Granted, he did not receive any commands really, but he felt as though he was letting them down. He wished they would make his rules clear so he would know what not to do. He got the, 'do not interrupt photo's' law pretty damned clear. After a moments consideration, he wondered if it was his call to the boss that got him in trouble. Ok, no more roaring for attention. The white coats that all worked along the opposite wall were alright. He guessed. Some bipeds here, he liked, they smelled nice and friendly. He just wished that all of them could see him as more then just their job. Keeping him fed, his cage's area and his body clean, keeping him healthy. Happy might never come into the job description. He'd just have to live with that. Maybe the boss man will be happy with him and that will make Dean happy...

   Castiel was about to leave but then turned to face the dragon's cage again. Something in the way it sounded. Longing tones underneath the growls. The dragon got down onto his belly and made a friendly sound at him, almost like a purring chirp that a cat would do. Castiel walked over, but stayed away from the red painted line on the floor, indicating the furthest the dragon could reach out of the cage.

   Dean frowned at the line and wished that he would come closer. He backed up, trying to give Cas the impression that he was not after his little body of meat, but his friendship instead. Everyone always assumed he wanted to eat biped. That's just stupid and wrong on so many levels. Their fears were only based in how he looked and acted and not on his track record. He only eats animals and bad monsters. Chewing some monsters up in self defense. Never regular ol' bipeds. Sure he's _thought_ about it, but thinking and following through are two very different things.

   Dean slowly sat upright in front of Cas, still bowing his head to keep his nose out of the way, and lifted up his arm. He glanced at his hand and tried to remember what the move was again that Cas had done at him earlier.

   Castiel cocked his head at the dragon and put down his briefcase and coat over top. He stood there and watched.

   Dean snorted in slight frustration at not being able to remember and looked to him for a clue. Cas raised up his hand, mirroring Dean's. Dean lifted up his nose to regard his new boss more clearly and both of their eyes brightened. He lifted his head like Dean's, again mirroring and wondered what he was trying to communicate.

   “What are you thinking about in that big ol' head of yours.” Castiel wondered aloud.

   Dean now mirrored him and made his mouth move in a similar way, growling and clucking his tongue, trying to form the same sounds that Cas was making.

   Castiel shook his head at him and bent down to pick up his briefcase and coat again. He faced him and waved a goodbye.

   Dean grinned and moved his raised hand side to side just like the boss did.

   Castiel dropped everything, and then fell backwards to the floor. To frightened and stunned to stand. He gaped at the confused dragon and started to crawl away from it, kicking his feet in front of him. “ _What the hell just happened?_ ” he quaked.

   “Boss! Boss, you ok?” An engineer came running over and helped Castiel to his feet. “What happened? Did he hit you?” he asked, checking Castiel over for injuries. He then spun around and gave an angry look to the dragon who was also nervous and scared of his friend hurting himself. He roared at him to stand up again and show that he was unharmed.

   “Just get me out of here.” Castiel said to the engineer.

   Dean lunged at the bars, so desperate to reconnect with the man. 'It wasn’t a fluke!' he wanted to explain. Dean _could not_ loose this chance to show him that he was smart. He punched at the bars with a fist and roared at the two of them to stay instead of what they were doing, which was running away. He paced the cage and sat down dejectedly when his calls went ignored. That old feeling of rejection thrumming through his very soul. He felt water in his eyes, threatening to fall, and he hung his head low. _Worthless. Garbage_.

   Castiel turned to look at his one last time and could have sworn he saw the dragon crying before it curled up away from them and sighed heavily. Breath broken with rumbling growls. Probably from intense anger. The cold. No way in hell was that a sad noise. The thing just attacked the bars and roared at him. Gotta be more careful.

   “That's jus' how he killed that other man.” The engineer said in a gravely tone, “Lured him in close and then ate him up.”

   “He what?”

   “Yeah. Well, not whole. He bit his face clean off of his skull. That's how you got his so cheap. No one wants to deal with a murderin' dragon. Hell, I'm surprised they didn't just put his down.”

   Castiel stumbled a few steps, reluctantly remembering the nickname that he had from the previous owners. “Man-eater.” They gave the impression it was a simple nickname, like calling a pitbull 'killer', but in this case, he probably lived up to the name. Just looking at it, you could see the threat it exudes. Even if it wasnt enormous with huge claws, teeth and horns, its temperament and reactions were all over the place. Quick to anger, unpredictable, bi-polar probably. Certainly broken. As all his previous handlers had been suggesting. He shuddered to think about the times when he had gotten too close, how it could have killed him with ease.

   “No more treating him like a pet. I'm gonna see to it that everyone knows hes a killer.” Castiel said, getting into his car.

   “Rest up, Boss. Long day tomorrow.” the engineer tipped his hat and shrugged on his coat tighter, going to his truck as Castiel started for his car.

   “Goodnight.” he called over and looked back to the warehouse and the night guard that waved him off. “'Night.” he said to no one in particular.

   Dean looked to the door as it firmly shut behind the two bipeds. 'Goodbye.' he mumble growled at the retreating forms. He wondered if the boss would come back again. Hoping he would give him a second chance.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous two chapter titles from the song 'Ring of Fire' by Johnny Cash, and this chapter title lovingly stolen from 'Goodbye Stranger' by Supertramp. I might steal more from this song because it is *awesome*.


	12. I'll never look behind me, My troubles will be few

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's first word is ground breaking.  
> (I think I'm punny... ;) )
> 
>  
> 
> (This is where the original short story ends, now we are completely in uncharted territory! things are gonna get interesting)  
> 

Dean learned the art of the Photobomb as several of Castiel's team were trying to take some photos of themselves in front of the Dragon.

This belongs in the previous chapter but I did not want to spoil anything :) and who's to say Dean didn't do this in this chapter as well?? Hint: He does this behind Balthazar's back all the time ;)

 

* * *

 

 

Chapter 12:

I'll never look behind me, My troubles will be few

 

 

   Inside the spacious cage, Dean paced about, trying to think of a way he could have handled that better. He cursed himself for not being more gentle and calm. Every single action he made was obviously terrifying for these little bipeds. All he wanted was to get Cas's attention, that's it. To make a connection. Dean would would have to teach himself not to growl or try to speak with them. No telling what his vocalizations would do, invoking wrath more violent then the verbal reprimanding from earlier yesterday. He should have known better. It was a miracle that he hasn't been beaten yet. He made up his mind to be better behaved in the future. It was still ingrained in his head to talk to the bipeds, even though they never understood him. Might as well stop talking altogether. So, first off, he'd have to learn how to communicate without his normal language.

   Easier said. Dean practiced with the night guards, but they only came by to check up on him every half hour. There were security cameras everywhere in the warehouse, glinting lenses that revealed their locations on the ceiling. Dean looked overhead and saw one behind a very small black box that was affixed to the ceiling over him. He gazed at it and wondered what he himself looked like from that angle. Confused? Monstrous? Majestic? He scoffed at the notion, and decided not to dwell on the fact that he was being monitored. He curbed his sulking. Nothing to see here. Move along folks.

   Fingers flexing and kneading, he full bodied stretched again, wings lazily flapping before settling at his sides. Loving the fact that he could do so without running into something. He absently noticed that his claws made marks on the floor of his cage, many looking like chicken scratches in dirt. He moved a nailed finger along, back and forth and made a quarter inch groove in the cement. He curled his head down to it and kept repeating that motion, back and forth until it became deeper. It took maybe a full hour but he had made a foot long line, half of an inch deep in the cement. Just that bored, he felt the need to decorate his cell. Nothing much else to look at so he continued to make marks in the floor. He wanted to connect the two ends of his straight line, he wasn't paying attention entirely to what his hand was doing. Idly he bowed out the next line, attaching it to the top and bottom of the first and let his mind wander a little. He'd seen this before. The curved line was a little trickier because it wasn't a simple straight line and it took longer to draw out in the cement, needing to trace it more carefully. It just felt natural and he was only slightly aware of doing it. Some flashes popped up into his head, and he saw similar marks on those flimsy pieces of paper that the white coated men marked on. He walked over to the nearest thing that had those marks and stared at them for a minute. Another flash and he understood what the marks implied. 'DANGER MEAN TEMPERAMENT.' He looked at the second word and then traced the letters in the air. Something clicked and he needed to add the end of the second word to the beginning of the first word. He furrowed his brow and returned to the marks on the floor. He gazed at the lines he made and the first one, looked a lot like the first letter. A ' _D_ ', his subconscious supplied helpfully. He sat down beside it and started working on the letter ' _E_ ' right next to it. Over an hour later, he had finished the two letters and went about doing another, hastily he started on the letter ' _A_ ' that came right after it. The triangle with legs. Satisfied that he got it he had to return to the written words  on the sign. Putting that last letter to memory, he returned to his scratches and started making the ' _N_ ' shape at the end of the letters.

   More and more he was getting excited at being able to make this message. As he wrote, the word became increasingly familiar to him and made his heart and mind feel more at home to just look at it. Finally, he yawned and realized that the sun was already coming up. The light glow from the closed windows and from beneath the huge doors became brighter and brighter. He had stayed up all night scratching this thing into the cement, and noticed that his nail was rubbed down to the scales of his finger. He tried to use a different finger but it was a little trickier to do. He finally finished the word and sighed in admiration and triumph at it. _This was his creation_. This was his proof that he was more then just a monster. This... was his _name_. Not like any of the other one's the bipeds tried to push on him. He already had one. And it certainly was not freaking 'Freckles'. He grinned and yawned again. Over exhausted, he laid down in front of it, looking fondly at his marks, tracing it with his finger, making sure that it was perfect. Making the corners more sharp and clear. Connecting the lines and making sure that it was a consistent depth. Each pass his finger and eyes made on it felt nice, warm, something like pride welled in him. Filling up a little bit of that hole in his stomach. He was tired but excited for the minute that that blue eyed man saw it and understood.

   The sounds of mooing came from outside, at first faint but becoming louder. He heard some bipeds talking outside and listened in as a single cow was being cut from the herd and led inside. The cow reared back a little and the bipeds jerked at its neck and head rope to correct its course. They dragged it closer to the cage. The dragon stood up and looked quizzically at the cow and the frightened thing threatened to stampede right out of the door again, taking the two handlers with it. They produced two long black poles and his eyes widened at the sight of the pain sticks. He immediately cowered back from them but the two bipeds just shocked the cow into moving forward. It made a pitiful cry of pain and he winced back as if he was the one being shocked senseless. The cow was shocked again and shoved harshly into the bars of his cage in front of him. He was simply horror-stricken when a gun was produced and the cow was shot right then and there. Blood spattered over his word and he backed up, trembling at the sight of the cow's body.

   He had killed before but it had been awhile and he forgot the look that his prey gets just before they die. It was instinct before to kill his own food and those monsters that Azazel put in front of him. But this, this affected him more then he thought it would. He knows how fucking _awful_ those sticks could be. His heart went out to the poor thing that was now laying still and bloody just outside of his cage. He made a noise of pain himself, remembering all the times before, just waiting for those sticks to turn on him. He didn't have to wait long.

   The guns were now aimed at his head and several other bipeds joined in and picked up the dropped pain sticks, shoving them through the bars. They backed him up against the far wall, and he cowered in front of them. They started laughing at him, as they clearly outnumbered him in firepower but he wasn’t cowering from _them_. He looked away from the cow's body and the men to show his willingness to cooperate so he wouldn't have to be hit with pain sticks. The cow was slowly drug into the cage, right over top of his word. The men left it there, and backed up out of the cage through the bars that were just big enough to fit through. Several were waving the sticks around into his line of sight just to watch his reaction. They were under orders not to touch the dragon but couldn't help but study the strange immediate change in its demeanor. They talked amongst themselves as they left him alone with his slowly cooling meal.

   He hunched there, defeated and doleful. What kind of message is that sign now? 'Dean is his name and he's so damned _evil_ that he wrote his name in its blood'.

   Two hours would pass, and only half of the men were there now as there was yesterday. Now that the cage was built, the building was nearly finished, and the simpler lab-work awaited, there wasn’t a need for too many men on hand.

   Castiel finally showed up, 3 hours late and nervously walked to his office, not daring to look at the dragon at all. Thinking of that huge monster kept him up all night, and he only finally slept when the sun had come up. Word of what happened the night before spread, and everyone in the department was sure to keep their distance from him as he worked. If the dragon chose him for his next meal, no one wanted to get in its way. Castiel heard the rumors start and grow that the dragon was going to draw Castiel in and when he least suspects it, he was apparently going to rip him apart. The thing growled at the other men and women, which only managed to further confirm their suspicions. Why was Castiel exempt of the hostility? To some, it was obvious that the thing was planning to dispose of the leader of the pack first. He shuddered and tried very hard not to make that conclusion himself. Nearly hoping that the creature in his charge was not that intelligent.

   The dragon's stomach growled louder the longer the day went, and he looked at the poor dead cow that laid on the floor over his word. If he tried to move it, it would show the word but it would be marred with the blood. He growled again at the ones that shocked and shot the cow and reluctantly turned to face it. He _longed_ for cooked meat. Not having to pick through bones and organs for some flesh that had not started rotting yet.

   Just as he resigned himself into eating the meat, Cas stepped out of the office and saw him chomp out a big chunk of the cow's shoulder. He started to chew, _reluctantly_ , and casually looked up to see his blue eyed boss hastily retreat back into his office to throw up in the waste basket. The muffled sounds were nearly enough to make him loose his lunch as well but he swallowed it down, throat bobbing, and grit his teeth in determination.

   He grumbled once the meat settled and appeared like it would thankfully stay down. The damage was done. He kept on eating as if he didn’t care anymore who saw him eat. All of the activity yesterday left him starving and after the meat was gone, he closed his eyes and quickly ate the organs inside of the rib cage. Swallowing fast so he wouldn’t have to taste it anymore then necessary. The meat had a flavor to it that at the moment was anything but appealing. When most of the bones were picked clean, he went to drink heavily from the bathtub of water they provided for him. Washing off his face as best he could in the cold water. He went back to the carcass and shoved it through the bars again, just so he wouldn’t have to worry about the pain sticks and guns for the removal of the bones.

   Castiel eventually crept out of his office again, because as much as he'd like to, he couldn’t hide in there forever. His expertise was needed in planning and starting the first test samples. He tried not to look at the bones, but the smell drove him to throw up again in a different waste barrel. Unfortunately it was the same waste barrel that held the other half of yesterday's cow. Some men laughed as Castiel ran outside to throw up _yet again_. Dry heaving in the dirt and clutching his knees.

   The dragon growled hostilely at the laughing men, and felt incredibly sorry for Cas. Throwing up that much _hurts_. But more then that, he understood that Cas needed these bipeds to follow him without question, and already on the third day, he lost respect from half of them. And clearly, the dragon was to blame. He may not like being caged up all the time, but he knew from experience that his situation could be a whole hell of a lot worse. What if the nice boss gets fired?

   He wondered how to make it up to old blue eyes, and resigned to only obey _him_ and no one else. That should show those guys who's boss. He waited for Cas to return, give some kind of order for him to obey without question but the boss just went about getting some food into his stomach again. The dragon glanced back at his word and decided to clean it up. He spent too much time working on it for no one to see it. He went over to the bathtub of water and pulled on it to loosen it from its base. It moved freely and he guessed that they didn't expect him to be strong enough to move such a heavy thing. So he tugged at one corner then the other until it shifted over to the spot some 20 feet away. He then gulped a whole bunch of water at a time and hissed and spat it out across the spot where the cow had laid. Grabbing some straw, he attempted to scrub the area clean, shoving the bloody straw out of the bars for the cleaners to remove. He then spit out more water over the floor and it diluted the blood and guts and that too was swept away with more straw. Finally, he moved the half full tub of water to the sign and dumped the whole thing over top of it, washing away all traces of blood to the trough that circled his cage. He tossed out every last bit of dirtied straw and swept the area clean again. Pushing the still clean straw back to his nest area. The handlers were threatening to tranquilize him so they could move the 'water dish' back to its spot but he just guarded it until they left and then he alone moved it back to the original spot. Gathering a bunch of attention from the workers.

   “Would ya look at that. He can easily move that big ol' tub wherever he feels like. It's weird how he almost seems to know where it goes.”

   “If I didn't know any better, I’d say he was as smart as my dog.”

   They laughed at the notion and whistled at him as if he were a dog, but he was just happy that he was elevated to that status. It was better to be thought of as a good dog then a ferocious beast needing to be slaughtered. At least it was a step in the right direction. He pretended to ignore them, they are not the ones that he's after.

   One picked up a cow bone and wagged it in front of his cage, hoping that the monster would suddenly play fetch with it. He ignored the tossed bone, and with his tail, flicked it out of the other end of the cage so they couldn't reach it. More cow bones were pulled out of the barrel and were tossed to him, also ignored, but getting him angry at their lack of attention to his obviously hand made and now clean word on the ground. He even pointed at it with his nose but one brave man just strode up to the cage and shoved a bone right into his mouth when he was looking elsewhere.

   Enraged at their stupidity he gnashed the bone in his mouth, splintering it with ease and then spat the shards out at the man. One lodged in his leg and the others took him to sick bay before their boss noticed.

   Too late. Of _course_ it was too late.

   Castiel renewed his anger from the day before and strode over to the group of men. His eyes blazed with authority and his gravely voice needed not be loud to be strong and powerful. “You, and you, clean up this damned mess immediately. I don't want to see a _single_ bone fragment anywhere near here, understand?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “And you three, aren't you supposed to be cleaning up the cow manure outside?”

   “Uh, no Sir, we were on sentry duty.”

   “Then why the hell are you in here?! Get your ass's outside and get some work done!” He nearly shouted, face getting hot and fists clenching at his sides. _Sick and tired_ of his authority being questioned. He will make an example of these idiots and hoped that the rest were taking notes. The two of them marched back out of the door and wondered if the boss meant manure removal or sentry duty. Both talking once they were out of earshot to not piss off the nerd scientist.

   “And _you_!” Castiel spun around and faced the dragon with a finger jabbed at its face. The dragon backed up from him, bowing his head quickly in a clear movement of submission. Even its gaze was cast downwards and Castiel caught the occasional glance over to see if he noticed the movement and understood what the bow meant.

   Castiel stopped short, still hovering his finger up at him. He grit his teeth and was about to turn back to go to his office when he noticed the letter 'N' next to the dragon's front right hand. “Who the hell did that?” he shouted angrily at the few that were left inside the warehouse. Of course no one came forward to claim responsibility. He ignored the weird chirping sound the dragon made as he went over to the security office and demanded to know who went inside the cage without authorization. They informed him that no one did, and that the dragon was left alone all night long. Castiel demanded to see the video and it was rewound quickly. He made a mental note to update the security equipment and technology because they were still using VHS tapes. Through the three bars of static that waved slowly up the old TV monitor screen, he saw himself pointing and talking, then the workers gather and leave the one sided game of fetch. The image then revealed that the dragon liked to push around the empty water trough. Castiel didn't think it was strong enough to move it. The video then showed him playing around with the straw, spreading it around. Gravity was defied as the water leaped back to the tub and therefore the blood of his breakfast returned to the spot. More movement but that was ignored, just the dragon alone in that cage. He did notice that the dragon was watching his office for a short while. Strange.

   Castiel held his stomach as the dragon seemed to be throwing up the organs, flesh and meat to the cow until it was whole again as the tape rewound. A long time passed with the dragon staring at it and then everywhere else but it from the far wall for a length of time. Then his men aiming the cattle prods at the monster that was backed up against the far side of his cage. When they pulled the prods away the dragon moved forward. It took him a second for his brain to realize it was scared of the cattle prods and he was not charging the cage once they were lowered.

   He saw the cow suddenly raise from the dead and the gun placed back into the handlers holster. The cow was led backwards away from the dragon with the cattle prods and ropes. The dragon was clearly agitated. But something else caught his eye.

   “Stop! Stop the tape!” He said and it was held on pause. Castiel and the security personal stared at the frozen image of the dragon and the floor underneath it.

   “What is that?” he pointed to some faint marks on the ground in front of it. “Rewind it some more.” The tape continued back a few hours with the dragon looking around and pacing expectantly, sometimes returning to trace the lines in the floor with concentration. Suddenly the letter 'N' was being forcefully erased by the claws of the dragon, followed by the letter 'A' disappearing. Then the 'E' and before the 'D' could be erased too, Castiel was already sprinting out of the security room and running over to the cage. Forgetting about staying behind the bars, he was almost through them.

   The dragon backed up far away from him, hoping not to scare him into leaving his area. He longed to get closer but knew enough to stay put at the furthest corner. Bipeds were easily intimidated and it was obvious that blue eyes was now very interested in his word and he couldn't help the wide grin spreading on his lips. He remembered himself to not show teeth in that smile. He practically pranced on the spot as Cas came closer still, placing a steadying hand on one of the iron bars to keep from falling into the cage in his haste to come over.

   Castiel glanced up at him only once, and was sure that the monster had no intention of closing the gap between them. He knelt down in-between the bars and reached his hand out to touch the closest letter that was scratched in the floor. Making _damn sure_ that it wasn’t his imagination.

   “Dean.” he said quietly, reading the word over and over in his head to confirm that it was English and not just his imagination or his brain seeing letters where there were only random lines.

   The dragon gave a cooing noise to the sound of the word. It felt _so good_ to hear it again. He sighed happily and nodded at Cas's confused face. He grinned wider, teeth peeking out when his boss did that eye squint/head tilt thing again.

   “Dean?” the boss said again, louder this time. The dragon couldn't help but grin with all of his teeth showing. A lopsided smirk that turned into a full on shit eating grin. Guns were heard clacking but Dean didn't care anymore. Someone. Someone actually said his name. Meg was the last one to say his name in what seemed like ages ago, no one else knew his name. Dean had his eyes half closed and laid down in front of Cas, rolling onto his side in sheer bliss. Cas was clearly processing this new information better then Dean had hoped. Dean kicked a leg up into the air and Castiel said his name again and again as it sent shivers down the great dragons' spine. He wiggled his wings under himself to balance his body as he now laid flat out on his back, flapping his immense wings along the ground, sweeping the straw all around his cage, the end result looking like a weird snow angel in straw.

   The dragon kicked all of his legs in the air and gave a very loud series of calls that only Castiel knew to be laughter. Castiel staggered back from the bars of the cage to his feet again and made it only a couple of yards before passing out.

   Dean cocked his head to look fondly at the unconscious lump and smiled as wide as he could. Laughing for a while as his small biped slept. Things were already looking up.

   Castiel's employees had taken him to to his office to rest. This time, not questioning why their boss was such a lightweight. That dragon was acting very strangely and apparently Castiel was having some kind of revelation. They'd just have to wait and see what that was exactly. Castiel's team knows the _real_ him and they defended his honor whenever they'd catch wind of the dissent. Loyal to the new leader because he really was the best choice out of them all. He just needed to get his bearings, they all did. This monster was unlike any other they'd examined before. Really, their boss was taking all this pretty well, ignoring the weak stomach, and passing out. Anyone would react that way when confronted by that massive and dangerous beast who seemed to be zeroed in on him. None of them wanted to trade places with Castiel, and would support him best they could instead.

   Balthazar showed up while he was still passed out in his office and sat next to him on the floor, stealing a bag of chips. Eventually Castiel woke up to the sound of sharp crunching when his dreams started to include monster teeth and human bones. Balthazar nudged him in the side and offered the chip dust at the bottom of the bag. Castiel couldn't wait to tell him what he just witnessed. Balthazar took it with a grain of salt but secretly fed off of his friend's excitement. Balthazar couldn't wait any longer and brought Castiel back out of his office. A glass of some kind of liquid courage was thrust in one hand when it looked like Castiel was having second thoughts. He nodded his head at Balthazar in thanks and they saw a quizzical looking mob circled around the dragon's cage as it sat proudly next to his word. Many took photos and didn’t care about being caught by their boss anymore.

   The dragon beamed at the positive attention he was now receiving. Castiel couldn't hide his own grin at that. He hung back a little ways, listening in on the conversations.

   “Well that proves it. This boy is smart.”

   “Bull, the previous owners taught him to write that.”

   “Why? What good does it do to have a trained dragon writing words? I tell you he did this himself.”

   “Is it the name of his owner?”

   “Dunno. It's someone's name that’s for sure. You saw how happy it made him when the boss said it.”

   “He'd be happy with anyone talking to him, that’s what I wager.”

   “I wonder if he can write something else.” one of them said and stuck an arm through the bars to wave the monster closer.

   “Don't do that Freddie, he'll eat ya whole.”

   “Nonsense, he's as docile as a kitten.” Fred announced with forced confidence and ventured closer.

   Dean eyed him suspiciously and gave a low growl at him. This may be a cage but it is _his space_. And this asshole was invading it.

   “Come on there Boy, tell us who Dean is. Your owner?” Asshole stepped closer. Dean growled louder.

   “Your handler?” he implored, looking for a reaction.

   “Careful now, Freddie!” The others called. Dean crouched down and warned him again to leave his space.

   The invader waved a dismissive hand at him as if Dean was stupid after all, and left the cage by himself. It was all Dean could do to keep himself from attacking him to leave sooner. He looked around himself and noticed some other men getting closer to his flanks and he flashed some teeth at them to have them back up as well. A low growl that vibrated the very air paused the advance. Dean is not some kind of animal to be petted. At least, not _their_ pet. If he was to be treated like one, he'd much prefer to be blue eye's pet. He is the one in charge, and treated him with a little more respect then the others did.

   “Yeah, it's just some parlor trick. They teach him to write one word and we all think he's smarter then what he is. Come on, lets go.” someone announced and eventually the group disbursed.

   Dean paced around his cage and cursed himself for scaring them off like that. Loosing another chance to make a connection with his captors. But then he remembered that it was Cas who was his master now. Not these minions of his. He drank some more fresh water from the tub to cool his temper. After a minute, he allowed the handlers to add fresh straw to his cage. Making sure that none of it covered up his prize word. Pushing it to his nest to arrange later into a nice bed. Dean waited and eventually it paid off, Cas walked closer into view and watched Dean's posture and demeanor shift immediately after seeing him. Cas walked over and Dean was a little sad to see him stay behind the red line painted on the ground to show the furthest he could reach out of the cage with his hands. At least Cas was closer then the green line, the 'attack free zone'.

   Dean flapped his wings at him in greeting and folded them up again quickly. Bowing his head to the side as introduction, his elbows bent as well to get low enough. Bipeds were just so damned small.

   Castiel now noticed that the dragon dipped his head at him alone in that way whenever he looked over to the cage. He folded his arms across his chest and watched his monster for a few minutes without doing anything. The dragon looked up at him and straightened up his body to look like an obedient dog waiting for orders. Eventually Castiel caught on and said on a whim, “Lay down.”

   Dean grinned wide and obsequiously laid down in front of him.

   Castiel gaped at him, clearly not expecting him to understand. Then thought it was a fluke or a simple trick it had learned and with his gravely voice ordered, “Stand up and open your wings.”

   Dean got up and opened up his wings just a little, hoping not to alarm him.

   Cas just responded with, “All the way.”

   So he did and the wing thumbs were touching the ceiling far above, he looked up and stretched them horizontally more so that they could be fully outstretched and opened. The shadow they cast was simply immense. It could probably cover most of his and Balthazar's house! They flapped slowly, causing a gust of wind to rustle papers across the room. Several white coats looked up at the breeze and stared at the display. The dragon then folded them back up neatly and stood at attention again. Head still bowed slightly even though there was plenty of room for it to be straight upright.

   Castiel saw the dragon's problem solving and laughed out loud. “Ok, now speak.”

   Dean cocked his head at him. Surely Cas didn't expect him to speak English. He looked at the biped with concern, trying to figure out if he meant something else.

   Castiel spoke up louder, insisting, “Speak!”

   Dean attempted to move his scaled lips but could not make intelligible speech, just a low clucking growl in what appeared to be a mocking tone. Wings unfolding as his concentration was elsewhere.

   “Roar if you have to!” Castiel lifted up his arms theatrically and ushered the dragon's voice out of his throat.

   Dean inhaled deeply while standing there, his wings snapped out and flapping, he roared as loud as he could for the little biped. Really getting a kick out of using all of his voice. His next thunderous noise was actually him saying in his own dragon speak, the word, 'roar' for shits and giggles. Knowing that none of them would get the joke made it even funnier. All of the bone shaking noise was truly a terrifying experience for anyone that wasn't expecting it. Dust was falling from some of the overhead I beams and Dean called that a bonus. Dean inhaled again and aimed his massive head down to his favorite little biped's body and roared _directly_ at him.

   The sheer force of the wind coming out and the sound made Castiel take a few steps back, and he had to cover up his face in his hands. Plugging his ears he laughed raucously at the haze that surrounded him. He coughed a little and took some more steps away, still laughing through the coughs. An alarm went off for a minute before being taken down and turned off. They knew there was no fire, but the fumes were apparently enough to set it off.

   If the dragon was still able to produce flames, Castiel would have been burnt to a crisp. He had to back up pretty far away from his cage now due to the toxic air it just produced. Covering up his mouth and nose with his sleeve, his eyes still shone with childlike glee. He felt like he just survived a dragon play attack. If the dragon really meant him harm, he would have found a way to ignite that spray. Claws scraping the metal bars, or waiting for a careless cigarette smoker to bring a lit cigarette within reach. Castiel made yet another note to restrict smoking to outdoors only. Just because the monster in his care liked him, doesn't mean that friendliness spreads to his team. The haze in the air spread around and settled a little closer to the floor.

   Dean felt bad for spraying so much of it, and tried to help dissipate it by blowing it upwards to the vent scrubbers overhead. Cas watched, from a safer distance and clapped his hands in appreciation for Dean's help. Dean grinned and hiccuped at him. A couple of his handlers wasted no time in procuring a sample of the air he produced, knowing it was a rarity to gather it before it was ignited by the teeth at the back of the dragon's mouth. His back mineral laced teeth were removed a week ago, making him safe to be around without worrying about flames. He tongued the holes they left behind, and found some masticated cow meat inside them, he turned around and picked it out of the holes and spat it out before his Cas noticed. His biped must be a vegetarian. Who else would have such a strong reaction to dead cow earlier. A faint memory popped up of an immense dragon offering him some grass and a sapling but it faded just as quick. Dean wondered what that was all about. The foggy afterimage showed that dragon's head as being larger then his _whole body._ Thing must have been bigger then a _mountain_.

   Castiel was ordered to breath in an oxygen mask for a few more minutes to make sure that the toxic air was clearing from his lungs. Fans were brought in and finally the place was deemed safe to work in again. He slung the oxygen tank and gear in a backpack and wore it when he went back to the dragon. “Thank you for speaking. Dean.” He said and nodded at him. It seemed like half of their conversations were grins and nods, but it was what they could do to show friendship.

   Dean couldn't shake his hand with his own, without injuring the miniscule thing, and he could not flap wings too much to show his gratitude. The side eyed looks he was getting from the white coats stilled his movements. Don't cause trouble. White coats could bring great pain, just as much as the soldiers.

   Dean recognized one of Castiel's friends, Balth, who joined Cas in front of his cage and started to give orders as he had seen Cas do. “Watch and learn, Cassie.” Balth nudged Cas's side and said up to Dean, “Roll on over!”

   Dean stuck his nose up at him. Balth spoke louder, “Roll on over, Fella!”

   Dean just stood there, with the beginnings of an annoyed growl. Cas patted his friend's back and said, “It's ok, he doesn't perform on command for everyone. Dean's very stubborn like that. We can train him to do that kind of stuff later, I've only seen him roll over once.”

   At hearing this, the dragon immediately laid on his side and awkwardly folded up his wings and feet so that he could indeed roll over for him. Whipping his tail around, it banged loudly on the cage bars as he completed the move and got to his feet again. The dragon strode the few steps closer to Balthazar and grunted distastefully down at him, then moved his head down to look eye to eye with his boss and nodded with an unmistakable smirk.

   Dean wanted to stick his head through to get closer to him but his horns clanged on the bars and he gave himself a little headache. He ducked back in and tried to figure out how to fit his head through. Instincts now ordering him to nuzzle his master.

   “I think you've got a boyfriend there, Cassie! Only slightly less vicious then your Ex. This one wont take half your stuff in the divorce.” Balthazar laughed.

   Castiel looked up at the 20 some foot tall dragon and stepped closer to the bars. Confident now that Dean wasn’t going to harm him.

   “Still, Cassie, I would not do that if I were you. He did once kill someone.” His friend warned. “He did what he's doing to you right now, lured her in and then bit her face clean off of her.”

   “I sincerely doubt that. It was probably self defense if it was anything. You can see what he's had to put up with. You've read the reports. They obviously tortured him at that zoo. Starved him. And even at the military base, they cut off several layers of his epidermis while he couldn't even move to get away or defend himself. Imagine being skinned alive and not able to do a thing about it. They treated him like a savage beast. A monster. But clearly he is not.”

   “He _is_ a monster! Certainly not human or a regular animal. He used to breath fire, he even destroyed buildings before. How can we trust something like that? He eats cows raw! I saw that pile of carcasses left out back in the burn pit. He is a carnivore, a killer, through and through.” Balthazar placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder. “Don't forget that.”

   “First of all, he can only eat what we feed him. I bet he would eat cooked meat if we gave his some.”

   At this Dean licked his lips and nodded enthusiastically. He roared a little in agreement.

   “Back up, Cassie!” Balthazar pulled him back from the bars. “Don't forget basic protocol! Damn it, you are supposed to be setting a good example to our higher ups. They can't see you going soft for a few tricks. It is all a trick don’t you see? He killed a woman!”

   “Who. Who was it that he killed? Now I've been pouring over the reports and documents that we were able to get for him but I haven’t read one word about this person he supposedly killed. Show me the evidence and only then will I believe it.”

   “You think he's not capable of killing? Even if he hasn’t killed before doesn't mean that he can't now.”

   “But he wont.” Castiel said with firm conviction.

   “How the hell can you be so sure?”

   Castiel stood between the bars and looked up at Dean. “I'm sure.”

   “Don't put your life on the line to prove your point. That's what idiots do.”

   “Then I'm an idiot!” Castiel proclaimed and stepped through the bars. Dean stumbled as he backed up away from him to the far corner of his cage. Looking fearfully at him.

   “Cassie! I once had a dog that did that very same move when I reached into his kennel, next thing I saw was a flash of teeth and that damned dog tried to tear my arm off. I still have the scars!” He rubbed his sleeve as proof. “ _Get back here!_ ”

   “He wont hurt me. Everything he has done so far was to show me that he's not mean to me. You remember all those tomes we read. Researching for months about dragon legends. Long before I started working for Michael. Weeks of library searches... anything even remotely pertaining to the lore. Some of them pointed to theories that once a dragon takes a master it obeys them forever. Like a soul-mate. He only listens to me. Dean told _me_ his name by writing it down and waiting for me to see it. He didn't care if anyone else saw it, his reaction was focused solely on my reaction. So, I guess... he chose me.” Castiel said, slowly walking towards the trembling monster in the corner.

   “That's bloody bullshit, Cassie! And even if it _was_ true, he's a _male_ and I'm less inclined to believe that they managed to catch a _gay_ dragon. Do you even know how ridiculous that sounds? I mean, I may be gay, and you're bi, but a gay _dragon_!?” Balthazar sputters for a moment then says, “Well I guess that explains why they're extinct.”

   “You're such an _asshole_ , Balth.” Cas shot angrily over his shoulder before continuing on. “I expected better from you. Of all people. Don't be a bigot. All we know, he may be bi as well. Maybe that's just how they roll. We don't even know for sure _how_ they reproduce. Might even be asexually. When they want an offspring, an egg just comes out.”

   “What like tree's producing seeds?”

   “Sure, why not?” Castiel kept his eyes on the dragon while discussing theories with his friend. He would have to find out for sure how dragons reproduce, but was going to wait as long as it takes for Dean's comfort. Who names a dragon 'Dean' anyway? That's like naming a cat, 'Daniel Jackson'. Some part of his mind flared at the thing's name. It sounded familiar. Especially since he was dealing with a dragon, not like he knew a specific Dean at work or school years back. It nagged at him. He mentally shrugged and took another cautious step closer.

   Dean watched his every move and cowered further, the last time someone went into his area this far was in the trailer on the road here. The soldiers that were still pissed at him for the fire had shot him with the herb muscle relaxant and shoved a live goat into his mouth and forced him to swallow it whole, head first. His mouth and throat was big enough for a prepared cow but the goat's horns and hooves tore up his throat on its way down. Fighting the inevitable every inch and foot of the way. He tried in vain to bring it back up but the soldiers leaned on his neck from both sides, forcing it down his long neck until he had to swallow just to get it over with. The pain was intense and he _never_ want to do that again. Dean would kill the thing first if he was forced to eat it. That way, at least it wouldn’t struggle going down. He felt so bad for the thing, feeling it thrash for only a moment before his inner organs crushed it to death. For hours after the soldiers left, he whimpered apologies to the poor thing and wished that his own torment would end as well.

   Dean trembled at the sight of the approaching boss, covering up himself with his right wing as he cowered on his left side against the bars, insisting that the man get no closer for his own good. Dean whimpered and crooned a growl at him, _begging_ for the boss to stop getting closer. Dean lifted his head, high above the biped and reluctantly bared his teeth at him when he was just a few feet away from Dean's wing. He opened it up and touched the small biped as he shoved him away with it.

   Castiel grazed his hand along the thin long bone underneath the webbed wing finger and Dean pulled away from him. His croon got a little louder and he shoved him again with his wing, this time a little more forceful but not to cause injury to the fragile boned but power-wielding boss.

   Castiel decided to go for broke and lifted the heavy wing up high over his head and patted the dragon's shoulder before Dean could snap his wing shut again. Castiel ducked back from the shoulder and wing again and held up both hands in surrender to show he had no weapon, and meant no harm.

   Dean inspected his shoulder and didn't see any needle sticking out of it. There were no marks at all and he lifted his wing and looked closer underneath it, always keeping an eye on the biped in his space. Dean leaned more to his side and lifted up his right arm and shoved the small biped back with his huge clawed hand.

   Castiel nearly disappeared inside Dean's hand but soon the dragon let go and Cas took a step back. But only one step. He refused to leave, apparently having no regard for personal space. Dean stared at him, waiting to be attacked, and Castiel looked back at Dean, part of him waiting for an attack too.

   Dean huffed at him in more annoyance then anything else and shrugged him off as if he was a cold breeze. Dean laid his head down on his left side away from the boss. Cas would have had to exit the cage and go around the room to see his head again. Cas waited for just a minute then took a few steps closer again. It was almost like a dance between them. Castiel held out his hand just above his wing, and just the very act of Dean breathing made it raise up to his hand and lower away again. He was petting Dean by default. A noise came from Dean and Castiel assumed it was a purr, but a little more stressed then that. Castiel stroked his wing in long soothing motions, and slowly moved his way up to the finger joints of the wing, and further still to the palm area. 'So much like a bat's wing but with much thicker skin. Stronger then Kevlar. Lighter then it looks. Damn near soft like silk.' Castiel thought as he stroked the scales. They still had a residue on them and he was puzzled at first what it was until he realized it was from the fire. He was _in_ that building when it burned down and the smoke and burned debris residue was all over him. Dean never had a chance to clean it off. He'll just have to arrange for Dean to get cleaned up in the future. Before the tests so that they aren't contaminated by this filth. He wondered what the dragon would look like all shiny and new.

   The dragon paid no attention to Castiel's observations, just feeling the warmth from the hand as it inspected away. Surprisingly painlessly. Almost gentle and caring. Dean ignored his body's response to the kindness with its purr, insisting that it's just a low growl.

   Castiel found himself fiddling and touching the 8 inch long thumb of the wing. He moved it around, seeing that it was double jointed or even more then that, no discomfort or resistance from the dragon as he slowly bent it this way and that. Castiel chuckled and grabbed a hold of it like a child holding a parents thumb.

   Dean felt the pressure and grabbed the biped's hand back with the wing thumb and the palm and gingerly let go again. Too intimate of an action to be tolerated for very long. Dean does _not_ hold hands.

   Castiel was just happy that they had finally shaken hands, though, unusual as it may be. He let go of the wing thumb again and decided that that interaction was enough for the day. He had no desire to push the dragon further from its comfort zone. Castiel took some steps back, still facing Dean, but soon had to turn around to see where he was going.

   Dean lifted his head again and was almost sad to see his new friend go. Dean got up and quietly strode over to him as he was still walking away. Cas felt the ground shake and stopped as Dean nearly skidded to a halt over him. Cas looked straight up and saw Dean's upside down head nearly 15 feet over his own.

   After the initial shock wore off and Dean made no move to attack, Castiel took a step to the side, out from under the huge fanged dragon's head. Dean just watched him move and backed up a step as well to get some space between them.

   “You don't want me to go?” Castiel said up to him. More of an observation then question.

   Dean curled his neck around the little biped and eyed him from the left side of his head. Still too close to look with both eyes without moving further away or looking down at him again. Dean's massive head was much larger then Cas's whole body, but that didn't stop the biped from bravely putting a hand up to the huge muzzle in front of him. Dean cautiously moved his head closer to Cas's chest, and closed that eye. Cas reached out and touched the bridge of Dean's nose. Dean nuzzled him a little subconsciously, pushing him back on accident into his neck and chest. It had been ages since someone rubbed his nose without him being drugged out of his mind. Cas then traced the ridge of his long nose up between his peacefully closed eyes and over his rough scaled forehead, bypassing the left horn's base to trail it to the top edge of his side fan ear. Dean opened up his eye and blinked at him. Feelings were sparking a little. Something nice, warm. Safe. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this... whatever it is. His heart fluttered a little. Damn this little guy was so warm. Dean nudged Cas closer to his neck and chest, feeling the contact there and the low rubble got a little louder.

   Dean absentmindedly brought in his tail to make a little nest out of himself for the little warm thing. Craving that heat. The sense of peace. Securing the biped in, he cooed a growl and rested his whole body down around Cas. Dean forgot who all was watching and actually covered Cas up with a wing and Cas had to sit down or else get shoved down by its weight and insistence.

   Castiel had to quickly give a hand signal to Balthazar to let him know that it was indeed alright, and that the dragon wasn’t going to harm him. Also, to keep the armed guards from shooting at them in an attempt to rescue him from cuddles.

   Though this situation was near the top of the list of things-not-to-do-with-a-damned-dragon, he couldn't stop being caught up in it. Dean continued to purr at him and his long whip like tail was curling up around his body holding him snugly in place. Dean let go of his inhibitions and was so moved by the biped's trust that he nibbled on his pant legs as a joke. A light threat that he was gonna eat him after all.

   Castiel kept on petting the massive forehead next to his other shoulder, and the top bridge of his nose until the dragon relaxed even further. Settling his head in front of one of Castiel's bent legs. The other kicked out in front of Dean's mouth. Castiel found himself practically hugging the huge head, right arm wrapped around a horn and lazily tracing out the scales on top, mind whirling away about the patterns there, with his left elbow resting over the middle of the nose and reaching over and petting the other side of the muzzle away from his pinned body. Too small to reach any further then a section of Dean's head. A brief jolt of fear hit him when he realized that Dean could easily swallow him whole without even having to _chew_. His hands stilled and Dean harrumphed at him to continue with the ministrations. The movements a little more stilted now, but Dean didn't give a rat's ass. This felt nice.

   It was obvious that if the lore he'd read was correct, then the dragon did choose him to be his master. And vice-versa, he had given Dean some power over him as well. Cas _allowed_ Dean to hold him, and even enjoyed it a little once he realized how impossible it was to be in this situation.

   “This, this right here, has got to be the most reckless thing I've ever done. Thank you for that.” Castiel said, pushing up on Dean's wing so the dragon wouldn’t get carried away and squash him to his side in a killer bear hug. Dean took the hint and folded it back up, mostly. Still keeping close and opening an eye to make sure his new friend wouldn’t just take off suddenly.

   After only a few minutes which seemed far longer, Castiel pushed up on the wing again that was just itching to wrap him up again. “It's ok, Boy. Just uh, let me out.” He said nervously, hoping Dean wouldn’t take offense.

   The dragon grumbled low in his throat and shifted abruptly, causing Cas to fall to his side as Dean's head lifted up and away from view and his huge, body sized hand slid out from Castiel's back to support his own upper half away from the biped.

   As if Castiel had just spurned a lover, Dean stood up and glanced once at him laying sprawled out on the ground there and walked away with what could only be considered a huff. Castiel propped himself up onto his elbows, still laying on his back and chuckled.

   “That went well.” his friend grinned, never taking his eyes off the sulking dragon. Balthazar crept through the bars and helped Castiel to his feet and led him hastily out of the cage.

   Castiel let himself be picked up but at the bars he hesitated. His friend was obviously confused and gave a tug on his sleeve that Castiel shrugged off again. “It's alright. Hang on for a minute.” He said raising a reassuring hand to him, then giving a half wave to the armed guards to go mind their own business. They shook their heads at their boss and were considering reporting his immensely strange behavior. The boss must have drugged the monster to get so close to it. No way in hell would that monster let anyone that close. Maybe the monster had been slipped a pot brownie or 10.

   Castiel shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to the dragon that was pretending to eat the old meat in his dish. He huffed again and swished his tail at him. Castiel had to jump over it as it nearly tripped him up. Dean hesitated when he heard his boss jump and realized that with the bipeds, he had to be constantly aware of what his limbs were doing so he wouldn’t knock him over again. Even though his tail was barely controlled as is. Dean moved his head over to the drinking trough and quickly downed the water to get rid of the taste of the old meat. He sighed and slid his tail to his left side to keep it away from the boss while he turned around to face Cas again.

   Castiel didn't really know what to do or say so he stood there for a second. Dean quirked an eyebrow at him and looked around for what he should be doing. He assumed that the boss gave an order when he wasn’t paying attention and was waiting for his to respond. The silence was getting to him and he dipped his head down to read his tiny biped's expressions easier.

   That one is most likely shock. Dean noted. Wide eyes, and his scent changed a little. Fear. But not as biting or thick, so, just startled.

   Dean slowed his movements and crept his head closer to him until his nose was level with with the biped's head. Castiel subconsciously backed up a little as the dragon's breaths were simply atrocious now. He grimaced at the scent of lingering half rotten meat and glanced behind him at the food bowl.

   “I’ll get something better for you to eat. What do you prefer?”

   Dean actually gaped at him. But with all those teeth it just sent every onlooker into thinking that he decided that human would be better then animal. That one Balth guy quickly dashed to Cas's side and pulled him back about 10 feet. Dean was still surprised to be asked for his opinion on food choices and made a kind of odd growl at him. He was basically used to people being scared by his sounds and movements so he ignored the odd friend altogether. Dean went over to the dish and then made sure Cas was watching. He pretended to set it on fire with his mouth. And nodded at him. Then seeing that he didn't get it, he arched his back, inhaled and to onlookers it looked like he was hissing violently at his food dish.

   Castiel finally caught on. “Oh! You want it cooked!”

   Dean nodded and glanced at the others and made the pantomime again that he was setting his food on fire.

   Castiel turned to Balthazar and said, “I can't believe we were so stupid! They took away his own ability to cook his food! So uh, next cow we bring in, I guess we are going to have to set up a kind of fire pit. It's gonna take awhile though.” He looked up to the dragon and could see the look of hope in his green eyes. No one would go through that trouble in heating up a cow for their pet. Not when gas and fuel were so treasured out here in the middle of nowhere. Not enough trees for a regular bonfire or smoke house. Practically everything ran on propane fuel and they couldn't really spare it just to heat up food for a dragon that could technically eat weeks old rotten meat. Since his stomach could digest it, it was labeled as an unnecessary expense.

   Dean seemed to understand what Cas was thinking and then looked around for something. Frustrated, he couldn't find one in his cage so he looked around the room for something that would be adequate and found it among others just out of reach at the other end of the cage from the bipeds. He growled at them and then nosed in the direction of several empty barrels in the corner. He saw the look of confusion in their eyes and got a little more frustrated. Dean strode over to Castiel faster then any had expected and actually pulled him in quickly into a loose fist and picked him up like he was nothing. Turning Castiel sideways and lifting him up to chest height. Semi-cradling him to his front side. The sensation of vertigo was overwhelmed by the intense fear of being crushed to death in this powerful hand that surrounds him. Dean tripod walked over to that end of the cage and brought his hand up closer to his face to figure out why his friend now smelled and sounded like he was about to have a heart attack. He chirped reassuringly at him, 'It's alright Cas, just wanted to show you something.' and let him down again, dipping his head the whole way to look Cas in the eyes. Making sure that his friend's feet touched ground before letting go.

   It was such a startling movement that Balthazar was too stunned and horrified to move right away. A shot was fired by one of the guards, thinking that the monster was attacking Castiel but luckily it missed the human and hit one of Dean's horns instead. Dean ducked fearfully and another shot hissed by until it clanked on the ceiling above.

   Dean brought his hand up and blocked the attack, accidentally knocking Cas over with the swift movement. “Stop firing!” Castiel exclaimed, getting to his knees from where Dean covered him to protect him from the guard.

   “Stop firing you idiot! He's harmless!” He shoved Dean's hand aside and it was obvious that Dean reluctantly let him. Both knowing that if Dean wanted to keep him there wasn't much Castiel could do about it. He was at Dean's mercy. Castiel waved his hands and the guard dropped his aim low and stood there dumbly. Castiel held up his hand to Dean and beckoned him closer. Dean's gaze shifted back and forth between the guard and Cas, but he did walk closer and lowered his head a little. Cas reached up and pulled at his nose until Dean's upper horn was within reach. The bullet barely made a mark on his right horn but it was still apparent that he was shaking up by it. Cas rubbed the spot and said, “It's ok, see? You're ok. Just nicked it a little.” He showed him his hand as if there would be evidence of the lack of blood.

   Dean grumbled a little and tried in vain to see his own horn, sighed and took another sharp glance at the shooter. Dean shook himself as if that would rid the tension in his muscles. It helped, a little. Cas was now facing where Dean had taken him before and looked up to his pensive face. Dean nudged him very gently towards the other end of the cage. Barely touching the biped's body and Castiel secretly appreciated it. Being hauled around like a doll was as frightening as it was humiliating. Dean looked straight at the empty barrels and crooned a note.

   Castiel looked over and pointed, “That? You want that?”

   He nodded and Cas waved for the other men to bring one over to him. He would have left to get it himself but was unsure how loyal his guards were to his orders. He didn't know if they'd start shooting once he was free from danger. A blue plastic barrel was rolled over and it took a few attempts to pick it up, finally Dean just reached his hand through the bars and picked it up and set it in front of his mouth. Cas marveled at the fact that the huge barrel looked no bigger then a coffee cup to the dragon. He even held it from the top rim like one.

   Dean looked down at Castiel again, remembering, and gently but insistently shoved the biped away with his hand. He stuck his nose to the bottom of the barrel and to everyone else standing there, it looked, and almost sounded like he was throwing up. They could see fumes rising from the barrel and only after the smoke alarms went off again was it apparent what he was doing.

   Castiel pulled his gas mask back on and was glad that the others behind him were also wearing them. He chuckled through the vent in it. “You really are smarter then we gave you credit for. Thank you for the cooking fuel. I'm sure we will figure out a way to use it to cook your next meal up nice and well done.” he praised and promised. Not to mention, grateful as all hell that he was able to get the huge sample without having to use other methods to pull it out of the dragon. If they manage to get another barrel full later, maybe the military will be satisfied with the freely given biologically flammable substance. Like the golden eggs from the goose. He imagined the military forcing Dean to give up his fuel instead of just _asking_ for it. Making a deal or a trade was preferable by far.

   Dean spat out the last of his fire fuel saliva and licked his lips of it. He saw the fumes escaping the barrel and actually covered it with his giant hand to keep it from leaking out. Two of the scientists were all too eager to get their hands on the barrel and put a lid on it after taking out a sample to test with. Talking excitedly amongst themselves about how flammable it is and how hard it was to get a sample before without it immediately being set on fire. “Castiel, I can't believe... how did you get him to produce this much?”

   “I told him we would cook his food if we had enough fuel, we didn't, but apparently _he_ did.” he shrugged and grinned.

   Dean went back to the corner and arranged his straw in a rough oval shape, weaving some of it into other parts for stability. Satisfied, he sat in the middle of the bed of hay and rested for a few minutes. He coughed a little and drank some more water.

   Castiel decided to let the guards have a break from worrying about him and left the cage, wandering over to Dean's head on the other side and said, “I think I can sympathize with what your feeling right now. It takes a lot out of you to produce that stuff. I'd imagine it's like willingly throwing up all the bile in your gut all at once.” Castiel rubbed at his own stomach, devoid of everything useful. “No wonder dragons don't use their flames very often. It actually hurts you doesn't it?”

   He lifted his weary eyes and his head bobbled a little. It only hurts when he runs completely out. He ended up nodding instead of trying to explain. It's usually a last resort kind of thing and he had already used up some of it before when Cas demanded that roar. Now, he felt like he was empty and aching. And _hungry_. He wondered how long it would take them to cook up a decent cow.

   Castiel reached through the bars and patted his nose. “I’ll get you some crackers.” he chuckled and left for his office. Amused green eyes lit up when he saw his boss actually return with crackers and a few bottles of Dr. Pepper. “Dunno if this will actually help, but I always feel better drinking this when I'm sick.” He informed, pouring the two 2 liters into a bowl that he found in the kitchen. He then opened up the package of crackers and poured them into another mixing bowl. Taking a few and munching on them as well. Castiel grinned at Dean and patted his nose again, urging him to give them a try.

   His long forked tongue flicked out and its moistness snagged a dozen crackers at once as he slipped it back into his mouth. Munching for a half second before swallowing. Too salty and dry. He then sniffed at the fizzy pop in the bowl. His lips puckered a little until he looked like he was going to kiss the pop then a very undignified slurping sound nearly sent Castiel rolling over with laughter. Dean gave him a sharp look, but kept on sucking up the fizzy beverage until the bowl was almost empty, then slid his tongue out and gathered up all the droplets in one motion. The whole bowl was barely a swallow but the bubbling fizz was an interesting experience.

   Castiel looked at his mouth and quirked an eyebrow. “How were you able to do that? You didn't cup your tongue like animals do. Far as I can tell it's like a flattened cone right? Pop shouldn't just stick to it...” He wondered, eying his mouth. Green eyes narrowed at blue and he opened up his mouth tentatively, sticking his tongue out a little at him. Castiel could not appreciate how much trust Dean had in him in this moment, because the last time he had his mouth open like this, soldiers were bashing his back teeth out of his jaw. Dean sealed the back of his throat and tried to keep still. Castiel couldn't help but reach out and touch the tongue and was surprised that it was almost like a cat tongue but instead of barbs to catch and tear the meat from its food, it was almost like millions of tiny dull cups imbedded into it about two feet in and back to the inside of the throat, all along its sides and top. Almost like millions of ladles all with their cups aimed into the mouth. Castiel hesitated for a second before touching the outside rim of Dean's mouth, expecting it to snap shut and take his arm with it. Dean twitched but remained steady.

   Castiel slowly ran his fingers along Dean's tongue and Dean wrapped it around the arm and tugged gently, he let go and lapped at his hand with just the end of his tongue and actually used both tines of the fork to hold onto Cas's first two fingers. Dean let go just as quick and slid his tongue back into his mouth to re-moisten it. It wriggled in the saliva filled bowl of his jaw a little like a snake before resting just behind his bottom front teeth again.

   Castiel noticed that nearly this whole time Dean was still breathing out of his nose. The dragon was trying to be considerate, likely remembering that Castiel had mentioned he did not like Dean's breath. Castiel couldn’t stop the grin. He quickly took a sample of the saliva before Dean slowly shut his mouth again, but not before taking a good long look at the damage that was done to the back of Dean's teeth. At least five teeth were removed. Scars littered the thick gum line and he could even see where it was trying to heal again from a particularly deep cut. Not for the last time, he cursed the previous owners of this dragon.

   He inspected his sleeve and noticed tiny marks all along it. With some force behind the tongue's movement, its tiny cups could probably peel the skin off of his arm in one movement. They were dull, but if moving fast or hard enough, they were capable of evisceration. The end of the tongue was soft and pliable enough not to do any damage to his fingertips but from about 20 inches in on back to the inside of the throat was damn near deadly.

   “Huh. I wondered how you did that. I mean, use your tongue to help break up the food. Your teeth take off bigger chunks while your tongue breaks it down into smaller pieces for digestion. Smart.” Castiel said and couldn't help but stick his own tongue out at him and then said, “Mine doesn't have that.”

   Dean knew that already but still pretended to take interest.

   “If you two are done sticking your tongues out at each other,” Balthazar's voice filtered in and Cas leaned back to see him. “There's actual work that needs to be done around here.”

   “This is work, assbutt.” Castiel defended, “Dean here is showing me how he breaks up food as the first part in digestion.”

   “As long as he doesn’t demonstrate with your scrawny ass... I guess I'll turn a blind eye to you blatantly disobeying _your own orders_.”

   “Shut up, Balth.” Castiel grouched. Dean joined in and huffed at him.

   “Oh, by the way, Michael is coming.” Balthazar said almost in passing. Keeping an ear out for the desired sound of Cas leaping to his feet and running full tilt out of the cage and into his office. Balth snickered and turned back around to face the dragon. All joviality in his tone gone as he glared up at Dean's now raised head. “You harm one hair on my boy's head and I will have _yours_ mounted on my wall. _Freckles_.”

   Dean responded with a snarl and huff. He turned to drink some more water and waited for Balth to turn his back to shoot a stream of it at the smart-ass. When Balth turned back around, shivering in the chilly air, he saw the dragon sitting pretty right next to his word on the floor, tapping at it casually.

   Balth could see that detesting the huge beast for simply being what it is, was not the smartest thing in the world. Maybe it really was intelligent and just wanted a friend. He had stolen a look at the reports and this thing had been through more torment then he himself would have been able to withstand. He wouldn't trust it completely, but decided to give it a chance, for Castiel's sake. “Truce?" he called up and added, " _DEAN_?” waving his hands out. If Cas needed this thing to cooperate, he wasn't going to hinder the progress. Even if he thought that the name 'Dean' was ridiculous for a dragon to have. The thing seemed to like it more then his other names.

   Dean squinted at him, Balth shifted foot to foot, not quite comfortable under the intense scrutiny, but he nodded at last. Dean went to the bars in-between them and stuck out his forearm and hand, fisting it palm side up and then lifting up his smallest finger.

   Balthazar stared at it for a moment before it clicked. “What the hell? Are you trying to pinky swear?”

   Dean looked at his own hand and then shrugged his wings a little. Then wiggled his hand again at the little biped. Balthazar let out a belt of laughter then strode closer and grinned up at the beast. He held up his own pinky and bopped it against the 3 foot long clawed digit. Dean pulled his hand back and Balth took a few quick steps back himself. Just because they called a truce, doesn't mean that they had to like each other.

   Dean still called it a win. He looked over to the white coats, soldiers, trainers and cleaners. That's two down, only 30 more to go.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (btw, I have a striped cat named Daniel Jackson - that's his cameo - named him after the main character from Stargate sg1 and the movie, cause I was addicted to that show back in the day. Now I'm addicted to Supernatural so yeah, my other black cats name is Castiel :) )


	13. The Hand Signs of the Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication is key to a happy relationship.

Chapter Thirteen

The Hand Signs of the Times

 

 

   “Sir!” Castiel greeted a bit over enthusiastically as Michael had just barely gotten out of his pickup truck.

   “Castiel.” Michael greeted back with a small grin, enjoying seeing the man loosen up and look happier then nervous. “Something happen?”

   “Oh absolutely. Yes. I'd say so. Yes.” His deep voice lost some of its baritone in his eagerness to spill his guts.

   Michael hefted his briefcase and motioned that the two of them should get into the warehouse because the weather outside was still chilly. “Good... Should I play twenty questions? Or are you going to help me out here.”

   “It's Dean, Sir.”

   “Dean? Who's Dean?”

   “The dragon.” Castiel added hastily. “His name is Dean.”

   “Why are you naming my dragon something like 'Dean?' He already has a name, well several actually. I was thinking about calling him Harry.”

   “Harry?”

   “Yes, a Potter reference,” at the confused expression Michael quoted, “You're a _lizard_ , Harry.” and chuckled to himself. “Lizard? Wizard? Sorry, saw it on Tumblr.”

   “I don't understand that reference. What is 'Tumblr'?” Castiel's brow furrowed.

   Michael side eyed him as they entered Castiel's office. “Somewhere you should never go.” and sat down behind Castiel's desk, forcing him to sit in front of it in the smaller, careworn chair. “So tell me what Harry did.”

   “Dean.” Castiel corrected. “And I didn't name him, _he did_. That's what I wanted to tell you, _show_ you.” He said, getting up again and looking excitedly towards the cage. “He's smart. Like _really_ smart. I've never seen an animal act this way. His cognitive ability’s far exceeds what's been reported thus far by his previous handlers. He understands commands to the letter. He obeys on command. Well, not everyone's command... Mine so far.”

   Michael could have sworn he saw a blush creep onto his underlings cheeks but Castiel turned away just then.

   “Dean recognizes our alphabet and the letters aren't just pictures to him, he can _read_ them. He can _write_. Granted it was just the one word, but who knows how much more he knows? It was rough going for the first couple of days, everyone was getting settled in.” Castiel left out the part where he lost half of his employees respect by loosing his lunch repeatedly and passing out. He also wasn't normally this clumsy. He blamed the jet lag. Despite not having flown in months... “I believe that Dean will be willing to behave for the anatomy tests so long as I am the one to retrieve the samples. He seems to respond more to me then the others. I honestly don't know why. Balthazar was suggesting that it's because I am the one he sees in charge here. With respect!” Castiel added hastily. “He had seen you only on that first day. He might not have made the connection that he is actually your dragon. If you go out there and meet him again today, he might respond to you like he does for me.” Secretly Castiel loved the fact that this huge monster was so open with just him. A note of jealousy was stamped down before it could take deeper root. Dean is not his to own. And the dragon can speak with whomever he wants. Now that he sees it for what it could be, respect. Friendship. The others had only treated him like a test subject or wild animal. Now that Castiel knows better, he had tried to talk more with Dean in the short time between Balth's announcement that Michael was coming to the moment he heard from the sentries that the truck was spotted.

   Michael looked out of the office door past Castiel's form leaning on its frame and saw that the dragon was looking intently at the office. Not even caring that there were several people within striking distance from the cage. Michael saw Balthazar milling about too, watching the office, the dragon and something else, God knows what. The man always seemed to have twelve things going on in his head at any given moment. Michael stood from the desk, dusted off some invisible dirt from his trousers and waved his hand out for Castiel to lead the way.

   Castiel smiled wide and practically bounced on over to the dragon, remembering himself, and taking firm school strides the rest of the way. Straightening out his wrinkled suit. A part of him wishing he was wearing his beloved trench coat for the comfort it brought him. Seeing Dean and his boss about to properly meet made him feel a little nervous now. He was embarrassed to find a few bits of straw clinging to his pants and quickly brushed it off before his boss noticed. “He might be a bit skittish. He doesn't like new people.”

   The dragon backed up a little and hunched down. He looked at the two men with confusion. Castiel could practically hear the gears turning. “It's alright Dean. He's a friendly. He's not gonna hurt you.” The dragon snorted at them and lifted a lip to reveal some sharp teeth.

   “Dean. Knock it off. This is my _boss_ , _Michael_.” Castiel announced and put a hand on his boss's shoulder, “See? He's alright.” he even faced Michael a bit more and held out his hand, thankfully Michael caught on and shook Castiel's hand firmly, putting his other hand on Castiel's other shoulder.

   Dean thought that was a weird thing for bipeds to do. Why were they laying hands on each other? Were they going to fight now? Is this some kind of symbol of dominance? Who has the stronger grip on the other? His boss didn't look hurt by the action and he had no idea who won the flimsy battle as they parted again. Dean lifted up his own hand hesitantly. Should he try taking on this newcomer? Surely the little guy didn’t think he had a chance against a thing as big as himself. Dean flexed his fingers a little. The bipeds all standing around watching. If he shows that he's stronger then the big boss in that hand squeeze thing then would that make him leader? He looked to Cas for some answers. A chirping rumble with a raised eyebrow.

   “I don't think he gets it.” Balthazar mumbled into Castiel's ear.

   “Oh!” Castiel said and aimed Balthazar with his hand out again. Balthazar and Castiel both made sure the dragon was watching and shook hands, clapping each other on the shoulder and grinning.

   Dean's confusion deepened. Why the hell are they fighting now? He thought they were friends. Dean growled at Balthazar, 'That was uncalled for.'

   Castiel held up both hands instantly and the others backed up from the cage. Castiel came forward. “No! No it's ok! This is a thing we do to show we're friends! It's called a hand shake.” Dean chirped at him, still giving the others distrusting looks. He pointed at the others and shrugged his wings.

   “Is that a question?” Michael asked. “Is he asking you something?”

   “I think so. He clearly doesn’t understand what a hand shake is.” Castiel said and added, “But see?! This just means that he _wants_ to learn. He's intelligent enough to know that he doesn't know, ya know?” he ignored Balthazar's grin. “Once I explain something, he gets it. His learning capabilities seem to be on par with a 12 year old.”

   Dean growled at him and narrowed his eyes.

   “Or older!” Castiel conspicuously added and said, “We just don't have enough information yet. We only just started conversing today. About 3 hours ago.”

   “Really.” Michael crossed his arms. “You got all this in just 3 hours? What have you been doing these past few _days_?”

   “Uhh...” Castiel hesitated. “Setting up mostly. I wanted to let him get used to his surroundings first. Ease the stress of moving and everything. It worked though. He is being better behaved. He seems calmer now.”

   Dean paced a little. Not liking how they were talking about him when he's right here. Everyone does that. Cas finally looked back at him and he wanted to ask his master who the hell this guy was. And more importantly, why was he here. He gave a quick bark of a growl for attention and made sure that Cas looked at him. He then pointed to Michael and shrugged his wings again.

   “I think he's asking who you are.” Castiel sounded surprised.

   “You got that from _that_?” Balthazar pointed at Dean's lowering hand.

   “Didn't you?” Castiel answered him then looked up at Dean. In no way shape or form was he going to call himself or anyone here Dean's 'Master'. That had so many negative memories for the poor thing, it wasn’t worth it. 'Boss', sounded better. “Dean, this is Michael, he's my boss. He owns this place.”

   “And you.” Michael added. Not really comfortable with how the dragon is closer to his underling then him. “You are my vessel. Inside you holds answers to my questions.”

   Dean didn’t look convinced. He decided to behave anyhow, for Cas's sake. He gave a curt nod.

   “What commands does he know?”

   “Nearly everything I tell him, he does. If he doesn’t understand, I just have to explain.”

   “Sit,” Michael said firmly, pointing to the ground.

   Dean stood taller.

   Castiel practically growled. “Dean. Stop being a little shit.” Dean stuck his tongue out at Castiel, Balthazar stifled a snicker.

   “Did you teach him that?” Michael asked, looking slightly miffed.

   “No! Of course not! He's just... he has his own personality. I don't know why he's acting up. Dean, Michael asked you to sit.”

   Dean faced Castiel, making damn sure that the others would know without a shadow of a doubt, that it's Castiel's order that he's following. He sat down, folding his wings like a gentleman.

   Michael scowled a little. “Dean. Open up your wings.” he pantomimed the action with his arms. The dragon ignored him. “Castiel.” he turned to him and Dean got a little worried. “Make him listen.”

   Castiel turned pleading eyes up to Dean and came closer to the cage. “Dean. You have to listen to what Michael says. He's the one in charge here. I work for him. He's the boss. I don’t know if you realize this, but since he's my boss and your owner, if you don't listen, you'll be punished.” The rest of that needn’t not be said aloud to be heard clear as day, that Cas will be punished too.

   Dean dipped his head down and sniffed at his blue eyed boss. He could smell the anxiety, fear, worry and general distress in that moment. Dean looked over to the one causing it and growled. No way in hell was this _insect_ gonna hurt his friend.

   “Dean! **Stop**!” Castiel's voice took on an admonishing tone but Dean could smell the horror behind it. He stopped abruptly and looked down to Castiel. He chirruped a little. Trying to reassure his friend and boss. Castiel calmed a little and said, “You gonna listen to your boss?” Dean looked to where Castiel was pointing and nodded. Anything to keep that look of fear from the nice biped. He nodded again and opened up his wings wide. Even going so far as to bow his head.

   Michael didn't smile so much as sneer. He knew that the only reason the dragon was obeying was because Castiel ordered him to. He then tested how far his dragon would go in obeying, “Lay down and open up your mouth. Over here, where we can reach.”

   Dean looked to Castiel for answers his gaze snapped up to the other man when he shouted, “Don't look at him! Look at me. I am the one giving the orders around here. Lay down and open up your mouth.”

   Dean laid down and kept stealing glances at Castiel, not being able to stop his worry. He reluctantly laid his neck down and opened up his mouth in front of Michael. It would be so easy to exhale his toxic flammable gas at him to make him cough and gag, but then Cas and Balth would get hit with it too. So he stayed still and waited. His body started to tremble the more nothing happened. He saw some flashes from in front of him and knew that Michael was taking photographs. He tried to stay still but couldn’t stop squirming. The tone of voice that this guy gave off reminded him too much like Azazel. He had been away from his old master long enough to see that he wasn't really all that nice. Cas was nice. Cas would be patient with him. He actually talked to Dean and not at him. There is a difference. Dean whined a little when his mouth was getting dry. The photos stopped and he heard Michael say, “Close your mouth.” and he did with a sharp snap. He let his teeth show for a few seconds before lowering his lips as well. Tongue moving all around to re-moisten his mouth.

   “What tests do you need to do on him?” Michael asked Castiel.

   “Uh, so far we were able to examine his tongue, the liquid version of his fuel as well as the vapor. We know that he can see in near pitch black pretty easily. When he wrote his name out only the lights from the generator room and the outside were on. Night guards had flashlights when they checked up on him.”

   “That's it?”

   “Well, I was hoping to do more once he's calm and comfortable with my team. It would be less stressful on him, and us. He's already been through so much. They tortured him at the zoo, I'm sure you recall.” he said, trying to get Michael to realize that it would not be in his best interest to threaten the poor thing further for results. He almost wished that Dean didn't cave in under Michael's demands. Dean was just starting to show a bit more personality and he was more relaxed, but now, Michael might have set them back. So much for proving to Dean that his life will be better.

   Michael seemed to know where Cas was going with the explanation and Dean was surprised to see him back off a little. He sighed with relief when Michael turned around and addressed Balthazar. “I want you to make sure that the dragon stays obedient. I'm leaving the duty of reprimanding to you. We need a bad cop to our good cop.” he gestured to Castiel. “I want the rest of his anatomy samples by the end of the week. Don't care how you get them, I just want them. Our good friend Uncle Sam didn't feel like sharing theirs.”

   Dean perked up at the sound of that name. Something sparked in the back of his mind. He saw someone slightly taller then himself, shaggy brown hair and another shorter old man with a hat. He looked down to himself but the brief glimpse faded away before he could find out how a biped could possibly be taller then him. He replayed what big boss said and tried to concentrate. 'Uncle Sam. Uncle. Sam.' but that damned white void kept him from focusing. He pushed past it. Colors started to come back, as if coming out of a fog. The biped was there, waving at him. He needs a haircut. Then the vision shifts as if he's running, but, he's too close to the ground. The woods around him shift as if he turned his head. No scaled body behind him, no wings, no tail, nothing. The woods shift again and he's facing the tall kid again. Both are running. Something up ahead catches his eye. Tall kid is shooting at it. It disappears into the woods. He sees something from in front of himself extend and he can't believe what he's seeing. Hands. There are two biped hands in front of him that are holding out a gun and it's firing. He is shocked right out of the vision. Panting hard.

   “Dean?! Dean! Come back to us. You ok? What happened? What's going on?” Cas was suddenly there, frantically patting his cheek and the bridge of his nose. Dean felt a hand on his eyelid as it lifted it up to the small biped. He closed it tight again, grumbling about the light that was blinding him from the thing in Cas's other hand. “Dean, tell us what's wrong.”

   Dean backed his head up from the bars, out of Cas's reach and shook it a few times. Balth and big boss were watching too, he could hear some movement off to the side, other white coats already there, taking pictures, notes, something. Whatever. He shook his head again. Before he thought of what he was doing, he lifted up a hand and signed, 'im ok. Dizzy.'

   “What's he doing with his hand?” Balthazar's voice seemed to be coming from far away. Other voices getting clearer.

   “Why does that look familiar.” New boss said.

   Someone from the back gasped audibly and started politely shoving their way forward.

   “Does his hand hurt?”

   “Cassie, what is he doing?”

   “I don't know Balth, he still looks sick. Still too skinny for words. We will have to up his meal contents a bit faster then planned. He hasn't been eating enough, he should be at least a ton heavier to look healthy.”

   “But what is he doing with his hand? Swatting flies?”

   “It's sign language!” A voice from behind the group shouted excitedly, several people parted to allow this lady to come forward, she had long wavy brown hair and a kind and thrilled smile. Her white coat billowed behind her as she strolled towards her managers. She knows something that they don’t that could be a turning point in their care over the monster. “My cousin is deaf. I learned sign language when I was a kid. He just spelled out that he's ok but dizzy.”

   All eyes landed on this new person. Even Dean looked down and furrowed his brow. Shit. Did he just hand speak to them? He wasn't planning on letting them in on that bit of information. At least not yet. Maybe to Cas when he felt comfortable enough around the little weirdo. He looked up at the new little biped woman.

   “Hannah, you think he just used sign language?”

   “I know it. Hang on,” she then started moving her hands all over in front of her chest, bringing it up to her head a couple of times and looking to Dean for recognition. He just started dumbly at her. “Ok, so he doesn’t know all of ASL, erm, American Sign Language. It has different sentence structure then spoken English. Whoever taught him might just know the alphabet.” she then started to sign, 'a,b,c,d,e,f,g....' and grinned widely at Dean as he distinctly knew what the letters were and sighed a little. Well, no point hiding it now. He continued on where she left off, 'h,i,j,k,l,m,n....'

   The entire warehouse was now as silent as the dead. All eyes on Dean as his hands slowed to a stop and he put it back to the ground before finishing the Alpha Bet. He was used to being stared at but this was unnerving. No one said a word for a solid minute. He looked to Cas and Balth and even Michael. All of them were staring at him. Cas came forward a little. “Why didn't you _tell us_ you knew sign language?” He asked in almost a whisper.

   Dean shrugged his wings a little, finally signing, 'didnt ask.' but the real reason was something telling him not to tell his captors what all he knew. His one ace in the hole was now laid out and useless to him. Now they knew that he could communicate, there would be no end to the testing.

   Hannah translated for him, “He says you didn't ask.”

   That got an amused laugh from Balthazar and Dean just looked to Cas. Wanting to apologize but also willing him to understand the real reason why he didn’t say anything sooner.

   “Hannah, can you teach us the alphabet so that anyone can converse with the dragon?”

   She nodded, grinning, Dean could smell the excitement rolling off of her. This was obviously her big break. Dean rolled his eyes. “Yes! Of course! And I’ll see if he knows any other words to make conversing faster.”

   “You can teach him more if you like.”

   Dean shook his head. He signed, 'no. only alpha bet.'

   Hannah chuckled. The others looked to her in confusion but she just addressed Dean directly both speaking and signing, “It's alphabet, one word, not two.”

   “What's he saying?”

   “He says he doesn't want to learn bigger words, just the alphabet. Spelling everything out instead of 'saying' the full word.”

   “Why.”

   “I don't know.” she answered, looking up at Dean again.

   Dean was getting more agitated and started to pace. Cas put a hand up the bars and said, “It's ok Dean, no one is gonna force you to talk if you don't want to.” That got an irritated sound from Michael but Castiel wasn't gonna hear it. He put him in charge of this thing and he's gonna take care of it. “We can't force him. He's got to do it when he wants. I will keep doing the tests,” Castiel held up his hands when it looked like Michael was gonna get pissed at the delay, “But pushing him isn't gonna get you results any faster. This is a huge breakthrough and I want to have a chance to talk with him directly about it. In private. He trusts me.”

   At this Dean nodded and stopped his pacing to come closer to Cas, bumping his nose on the other side of the bars Cas was holding onto. Dean tentatively stuck his nose through two of the bars and Castiel hovered his hand over the nose and let Dean bump the outstretched fingers with it. Dean stuck his tongue out quickly and licked Cas's hand and lifted his head again. Cas couldn’t stop the warm grin and stepped back from the cage. Dean sat down and lifted up his hand again. 'only cas'.

   “The dragon says that he only wants Cas. Castiel?” she asked Dean and he nodded. “He thinks your name is Cas.” she explained.

   “Cas?” Castiel asked and Dean shrugged and nodded again. “Huh, well ok. I can live with that.”

   “This is ridiculous.” Michael announced. “Dragon. You are to speak to anyone that comes over here. You don't have the luxury of playing favorites.”

   'watch me' He signed and saw Hannah squirm a little. Feeling a little guilty now that she has to be the bearer of bad news. She seemed nice enough so he quickly signed, 'no tell him. I will hand speak.'

   “That was a lot of words, what did he say?”

   “Actually it just _seems_ like a lot. He says he will do it.” She said and looked up at him with a small smile, glad that he just saved her bacon. “On a personal note, when everyone finally learns the alphabet? You should take it slow. Make sure your fingers are clearly visible because to him, we are just slightly bigger then uh, well, rats really. If they were standing up. So it might be hard for him to make out what our hands are doing.” she then held up her hand and started to sign, 'Thanks'.

   He gave a quick nod back. Michael may not appreciate being referred to as a rat but Dean thought it fit. Cas wasn’t a _rat_ at all, more like a blue eyed kitten. Dean huffed a laugh at the thought. Balth was like one of those little yappy dogs with a weird way of barking. The rest of the bipeds were like ducklings, following their mama duck around.

   “Dean?” Cas asked, “what's going on?”

   “Seems a bit out of it today doesn’t he?” Balthazar added.

   Dean signed, 'hungry', as an afterthought, remembering what Cas had said about giving him more food. Hannah translated.

   “Oh! That's right! He hasn't eaten since this morning. Make sure that his dinner is cooked thoroughly this time. He deserves it. For all the hard work he's done.” Castiel praised and Dean beamed at him.

   Michael sighed again and turned to Castiel's office. Castiel knew to meet him in there for a reprimanding so he gave himself a little bit of time before facing the music.

   Dean could not stop salivating at the thought of a cooked dinner and paced back and forth. Hearing and scenting in the air the meat already starting to cook outside. Apparently two cows were cut from the herd and the others were talking about having one for themselves in a bar-b-cue. Dean was more or less ok with that. So long as he gets the leftovers. He saw Cas talking with the hand speak lady, Hannah? And she was writing down something on a sheet of paper then went to a computer. She was showing Cas something on it and then Cas was coming over with a sheet of paper and a furrowed brow. He looked up to the dragon and held up a hand, moving the fingers a little before holding up his hand to Dean, 'hello Dean'.

   Dean huffed a laugh and signed back, slowly, making sure Cas saw each letter before moving to the next. 'hi cas.'

   “Since you still understand spoken English, is it alright if I just talk to you like this instead? Might save us some time.”

   Dean nodded and signed, 'what do you want to know?'

   “Whoa! Ok, so many letters, ok uh, I got 'w-h-a..' and then a bunch of fingers flying.”

   Dean smirked and started again, 'u want know?'

   “Was that a question mark or a letter?”

   Dean cocked his head, what the hell is a question mark?

   “Uh, I don't even know what to ask you. Kinda lost here.” he looked down to the sheet again, “How are you doing?” his fingers moving with the letters, jerkily but Dean was proud his friend was picking it up.

   Dean signed, 'fine'. Then waited a beat before going on, 'you?'

   Castiel sighed a little, irritated at his own lack of knowledge. “Hannah? What does this mean?” and made the sign.

   “It's a question mark. From his point of view. This is what he's using for a period, and this can be used for an exclamation mark. We'll need to know what he thinks is punctuation. Whoever taught him made up their own apparently.” She signed over what she picked up with her observations, and went back to the computer to print up an updated sign language sheet, this one had a few basic words that they might use in conversing. She reluctantly added, 'hurt, sad, and pain', when she thought that it would be prudent to add those in case Dean felt any of those. She then added 'happy, hello, mom, dad, brother, sister, in, out, up, down,' and other common words. She hesitated when she looked over to the dragon and her boss, there was a reason he only knew the alphabet. Most ASL words need two hands and the dragon needed his other hand to stand on. She shrugged and limited the new words to what could be preformed with just one hand.

   “Ok, so Dean, you just asked if I'm fine?” Dean nodded. Cas said he was, and then asked, “Do you know where you came from? Where you got your name?”

   Dean frowned at him, one question at a time, Dude. 'zoo'. And waited a beat then signed, 'before that dont know'. Then thought about it, 'woods', and then, 'tall kid brown hair' and, 'hat old man'.

   “Ok, what I got was you remember the zoo, and I am sorry you went through that, I really truly am. Then you remember a forest?” he got a nod and continued, “A tall kid with brown hair and an old man in a hat gave you your name?”

   Dean thought about it. That sounded likely. He meant to say he remembers them from before but those two mystery bipeds aren't exactly considered a location, he just... remembers them. He came from where they were. Something clicked and through the white fog he heard the tall kid say, “Dean.” and then the old man saying his name too in the middle of a muffled sentence. More gruff of a voice then the tall kid. They must be where he got his name. But... something told him that he had that name before them.

   “Ok, Dean. Is there anything else you wanna tell me?”

   Dean shrugged. Not much to tell. 'thanks for big cage'. He signed super slow, wanting this message through. He appreciated all the leg room here.

   “You're welcome.” Cas beamed. “You know, one of those designs had you pinned down completely. I just about lost it I was so pissed they even considered it.”

   The look of fright on Dean's face would have been comical but Cas knew the story behind it. “It's ok! Ok! You're not gonna be pinned down again. Not if I have anything to say about it. My boss though, Michael. He uh, he's a good guy, but he umm.... he wants some information. From you.” Castiel looked to the office and saw Michael flipping through his half finished reports on his desk. “You gotta help me out here. I don't want to loose you, he may replace me if he thinks I'm not training you right.”

   'hes a bitch'.

   Cas belted out a laugh, then caught himself. “Who the hell taught you curse words?”

   Dean thought about it and saw the same tall kid with brown hair and suddenly saw him signing out the phrase, 'son of a bitch', and then saying “Corrupting a dragon. Put a check mark on that bucket-list item.” 

   He was staring distractedly at his carved name written on the concrete floor. Suddenly, he saw himself much shorter, still himself thank God, wings and all, and the tall kid standing nearby. Dean must have been just a kid himself. The tall kid wrote out his name and a different word in the dirt, and a third one nearby. The kid's voice was familiar as all hell as he explained what he was doing. Just on the edge of Dean's consciousness. The lines forming three letters, then in another spot a word with five letters. Over half of them the same. He thought hard and traced out the image of the first word's letters on the ground. A very faint line made from claws in the concrete.

   SAM

   “Sam? Who's Sam?”

   Dean stood staring into space for a second. Who is Sam? Was he really the tall kid?

   He then focused past the white fog in his head that started to cover up the memory, he drew the five lettered word close by, just like in the memory. Maybe where they were placed in relation to each other had something to do with meaning.

   BOBBY

   “And who's Bobby? Someone you were close with?”

   Dean didn't know. They could be. He got the sense that they knew him and cared for him. Maybe his first owners? He shook his head when the white fog rolled in over top the memory. Obstructing it completely. He huffed in annoyance and looked to Cas for answers. Bipeds always seemed to know what was going on.

   Castiel looked at the words and thought about what the names could mean. Other dragons like Dean? Maybe.... handlers? An acronym that he saw on the walls of the zoo? Oh! Maybe other monsters from the zoo! “You knew these guys at the zoo right? Oh, wait, maybe Sam and Bobby are girls... can't be sexist assuming their boys names.”

   'not the zoo boys yes.'

   “Ah ok. So uh, who are they? Should we play twenty questions?” Castiel chuckled. A firm clearing of the throat came from his office and he knew that his superior was getting impatient waiting for him. He gave a brief wave to Dean, then on his way to the office he instructed the culinary staff to bring Dean his cooked dinner as soon as it's done being prepared. He turned in time to see Dean grin ear to ear from that announcement. His cute side fans spreading out like a puppies perked ears.

   “Castiel. I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

   He fidgeted a little before taking his seat opposite of Michael who once again took his comfy office chair. “Of course. Anything.”

   “One of the reasons I came today is that I have a new hire that wants to work here. She claims to have had ties with the dragon from the zoo. Naturally I dismissed her on principle alone. I may be rough around the edges but I cannot condone the kind of treatment my boy received at that damned zoo. Horrendous living conditions. I gave you everything I received from the General, I even took a trip to that zoo myself yesterday to see what we would be up against. Someone had already broken into the facility and trashed a room in the basement but there were still signs of torture down there. I found a piece of information there that was overlooked. A list of employees that was underneath the desk in the main office. One Meg Masters had indeed worked there, doing various odd jobs. She is the one that contacted me.”

   Castiel's eyes went wide and he lost breath. “Meg... you're sure it was Meg M- _Masters_?” he stammered.

   Michael had a grim expression. “Yes. Meg Masters. Masters being her maiden name, her married name had been Novak. I did some digging into her past, naturally. I do with all my employees, and found out that you and her had some... history.”

   “Yeah... uh, yeah she was my wife. How the hell did she know Dean? Why was she even there? When she left me,” his voice nearly broke as emotions he shut down months ago threatened to overtake him again. His head started to hurt a little. “When she left, she contacted me only through one of our mutual friends and the divorce lawyers. I hadn’t seen her since the signing of the papers in court.”

   Michael allowed Castiel Novak time to let the information sink in, and for him to come to a conclusion. Castiel got up and went to his file cabinet and pulled out a green bottle of Absinth from the lower section. Michael laughed for a second and got up to retrieve some glasses from the snack room on the other side of the warehouse. On his way there, he saw Dean giving him a hard stare. Not friendly or harsh. Just, wary. He waved at the dragon and the dragon waved back almost reluctantly. He found himself talking to him as equals, “Just have to steal him for a little bit. Lots to discuss. And don't worry, you're not in trouble.” The dragon tensed and looked to the office.

   “ _Cas_ isn't in trouble either.” He practically chuckled. Dean relaxed a little and turned to his water dish, drinking heavily. Must be parched. “You like him?” he said more or less to himself and was startled when Dean turned his head around to face Michael. Looking at the office and then back to him. He nodded a little. Obviously unsure what his response would invoke. Wrath, compassion, understanding? Michael decided to give the thing a break. “Hmm... alright. You two can still be playmates. But I expect some respect from you.”

   Dean turned around and came up to the bars of his cage. Looking at them and then Michael. He signed, 'earn it'. Not expecting Michael to know what he said.

   “I already am. Look at where you were, how you were treated, and how you're treated here. They left you broken, I will leave you better then new. Open your eyes. See how much better your life already is.” he said and went back to the office. He'd let the monster ruminate on what he said while he converses with Castiel.

   Castiel was caught taking a drizzling pull from the bottle and turned to see his boss walking in, wiping off the mouth of the bottle and angling it towards him. “No backwash, just let it drop into my mouth.” Castiel explained and thumped the bottle on the table next to Michael's glasses. Castiel wiped off his own chin from the few drops that missed and looked like he wanted to lick his fingers so as not to loose any of it. Michael let Castiel prepare it properly and ended up with a good sized dose in each glass and they swallowed with barely concealed 'woawcha's and ' _hooo_!' at the obscenely high content of alcohol in it. “Man. Wow. Ok, should have eaten something more then crackers before drinking that much.” Castiel mumbled.

   “Where did you even find absinth?”

   “Balth. It was a gift. Had to buy me the set up too. He thought it was funny to buy me the 'Green Dragon'.” he chuckled and looked up to Michael again. “So, would you care to tell me how you know my ex-wife? She tried to contact you for a job here?”

   “Yup. I didn't have a chance to mention you. She probably doesn't even know you're here. Or does she?”

   “Who knows.” Castiel said, eying the bottle again. He put it back and pulled out a different liquor  bottle. He wasn't going to waste the good stuff while in a conversation with that woman. He set about pouring two fingers of the other clear bottle into his glass. “She never really took an interest in my work. At best she seemed to tolerate it. I don't even know how she knows about Dean. How she found him before we did.”

   “That would be helpful information. The evidence suggests that she's worked for that zoo since around the same time that Dean arrived there.”

   Castiel grimaced. “That means that she saw what they did to him and did _nothing_ to stop it.”

   Michael grimaced as well and looked out of the door to Dean's cage. “How much suffering could he have avoided if she'd done the right thing sooner.”

   “Sooner?”

   “Yeah. She was the whistle-blower. Or so she claims.”

   Castiel thought about it for a moment. “Oh.”

   Michael leaned forward a little, “Oh? That's all you got to say on that matter? 'Oh'?”

   Castiel shrugged, “Well, uh, yeah.” he swirled the liquor around in his glass, emotions too heavy to deal with so he put them aside and asked, “Were you planning on bringing her here?”

   “That all depends on you. She was your Ex. I don't want any drama in here. But she may be able to shed some light on Dean. Why he is the way he is. Who taught him sign language. Where he got the name 'Dean' from in the first place.”

   “A couple of guys named Sam and Bobby named him.” Castiel affirmed and then said, “Yes, however not from the zoo, they did not work there, so it is before he got there. Most likely the original people that kidnapped him from the nest in the first place.”

   “Hmm. So is that a _yes_ or _no_ in bringing her in?”

   Castiel thought about it and poured himself another bit of the cheap liquor, and Michael took it away from him before he could get alcohol poisoning. No telling how much he'd drink before long. “I guess, fine. Bring the devil woman in.” he frowned at his hands, the pale band of skin where his ring had been for years. “I am not gonna be held responsible for her. She gets into trouble, does something wrong. She's out of here. Immediately. No second chances.” his finger plunked down firmly onto the desk, bending backwards a little at the force.

   “No arguments here.” Michael raised his hands in surrender and Castiel saw the movement and chuckled just a bit.

   Castiel nodded a little, heart rate calming. “If she has nothing to tell us about Dean then she's gone. I don’t want that kind of person around him. He deserves better. She may have 'blown the whistle' but she waited _months_ before doing so. And that's another thing too, why _now_? Why wait? _Who does that?_   Who watches something as beautiful as that get tortured, beaten, and mind fucked seven ways from Sunday and just stands by for _months_ , letting it happen?”

   Michael didn’t have any answers, just more questions. He did not want any more drama here then there already was. At least the dragon didn’t look like it wanted to kill his employees anymore. Now he could use his words instead of his roars. “I'd like to see the footage after your sessions. I still want samples. At least now he can tell us if we dig in too deep with the needles or scalpels. We will only draw a small amount of blood, I promise. Barely even a pinch for him. It will not be anything worth loosing a life over. He probably wont even feel it. He will be sedated of course, a local anesthetic for the smaller incisions. He might need to be cognitive enough to respond when we do some of the tests. I trust you'll be present for them?”

   “Yes, of course.” Castiel said, feeling suddenly dirty for treating his charge as something that was just a mindless animal. But, he had a job to do here. If not him, then someone else. He kept repeating in his head as a form of consoling. At least Dean likes him back. “We do share a profound bond.” Castiel was still astonished by this clear fact. “I would like to wait another day or so before we begin taking the samples. Build up the trust more. I want him to feel like this is still a safe place, better then the others.”

   “Hmm.” Michael sounded like he agreed, or maybe just acknowledged that he heard Castiel. Either way he wrote down a list of things he'd like done or questions to be answered before his next visit. In the meantime he was going to go back to the military base and see if or when the General wants to release the mother. A temporary loan or permanent purchase of his real goal.

   Castiel wished him luck, and found himself meaning it more now that he knows what it would mean to Dean. To be reunited with his mother after all this time. Would she even recognize him? He was small enough to fit in a car when he was taken. One thing's for sure, he wanted to find out more about these 'Sam' and 'Bobby' guys. What information they have on his dragon. If they have pictures or videos of when he was young. The nest site. The mother. Any bit of extra information is invaluable. He got out his phone and added another note to it, 'find all of the information that Balth, Wes and Brandon discovered months ago on the people that stole the baby dragon.

   Castiel waved to Michael as his truck pulled back out of the parking lot area. He turned and saw Dean pacing again at the bars. His hand moving a bit but it was obscured by Balthazar standing nearby. His cooked meal already placed inside the cage, basically forgotten, while Dean's whole posture was zeroed in on Castiel. He went over to Dean and said, “So! How's my favorite dragon?”

   Dean seemed more relaxed now and signed, 'good you ok?'

   “Yes, I am well.”

   Dean seemed a little relieved at that and signed, 'gone long'.

   “Yes, my apologies. We were discussing my Ex. She wants to work here. I told him that if she does not behave then she will be sent away immediately. I only want whats best for you. You are extraordinary, Dean. I want to keep you safe.”

   Dean harrumphed at that. 'no im bad'.

   “Whats the matter? You do not thing you deserved to be saved?” Castiel squinted, looking deep into Dean's eyes.

   Dean rolled his eyes. Why would Cas want to save a damaged thing like him?

   Castiel stepped through the bars again, Dean lifted his head a little but Castiel just walked closer, laying a hand on Dean's arm. Patting it. “You're a good man. Err, dragon. I think you just need the chance to show them and yourself that.”

   Dean rumbled a little and looked away. Castiel just patted a little harder, trying to get his attention. Dean looked down again, lips parted a little like he wanted to say something. He pursed them again. No point.

   “You really are good. You did the best with what you were given.”

   Oddly enough, Dean wanted to prove Cas wrong, tell him about all the things he did at the zoo. How many creatures he's killed just because he was _allowed_ to. Just to prove how messed up he was on the inside. He doesn’t deserve pity. He deserves to be hated. Azazel turned him into a true monster. He wanted to say all this and more but that warm hand on his arm stilled his tongue, so to speak. Or not speak, sign. Dean shook his head, giving up on those weird biped sayings. Dean thought about how much faith and trust this little guy is giving him. All day long... Just standing here. Personal space be damned. He's no taller then his elbow for crying out loud. Guy had balls that's for sure.

   Balthazar approached the cage too and that got Dean's attention in a hurry. “Cassie, it's getting late. Planning on sleeping tonight?” he asked and took a tentative step through the bars, watching the dragon not react and Cas react. Cas seemed more alarmed then the dragon. “Dean here would probably like some sleep too. He was apparently up all last night tagging.”

   Dean looked to Cas for an explanation. Cas just answered Balth, “Yes. Sleep sounds ideal. What about you? You sleepy?” Dean shrugged a little and nodded once. “Ok. Then I will bid you adieu and take my leave.”

   At the lack of understanding on the dragon's face, Balth chimed in. “Means we are _leaving_ flame for brains. Arrivederci.” Balthazar bowed low and hopped out of the cage and strolled into Castiel's office for a snack before leaving the warehouse. He did not want to leave his car here overnight. If the dragon ever got loose, his car would be the first to be vandalized.

   Cas laughed a little, “Goodnight Dean. See you in the morning. Enjoy your dinner.”

   Dean chirruped back and signed, 'thanks!' before turning to his still smoking meal. He savored Every. Single. Bite.

   'Holy mother of monsters that was so freakin' _GOOD!'_ His deep purr rumbled the ground and he thoroughly ignored all of the other bipeds waving goodbye. Nothing would take him away from this masterpiece of cooked cow. Even after he was done eating the meat, he turned on the bones and crunched them to get at that sweet nectar of marrow. _Holy_ _shit_. Once that was gone all that was left was a smear on the concrete and he waited a good 12 seconds before licking it clean.

    The other bipeds that weren't on guard duty, were mingling outside before heading home. An unofficial off-the-clock BBQ party started when their sauced bovine was divine. Cas and Balth hesitated in leaving the site entirely, but decided against staying. Beds beckoned, and they thought wrongly that no employee wants to hang out with their boss after they're off the clock.

    The conversations were muffled by the closed doors, but every once in awhile someone would come back inside for more drinks or a bathroom break. Dean looked on and one or two of them would wave at him. He waved back, longing to be included in with everyone else. It sounded like fun out there. He sighed and turned towards his bed, shifting the straw around into a perfect nest and settling down. He pretended that he was at the party too, but decided on his own terms to go to bed. Letting the murmur of happy voices lull him to sleep. He woke with a start when the leftover cow was pushed into his food dish behind him. He lifted up his head and grinned at the few that gave it to him.

    “Enjoy there big guy. You could use some meat on your bones.”

    “Yeah, shouldn’t be able to see damn near every bone in you. So eat up and we'll see you tomorrow!”

    He grinned wider. Already making more friends and having seconds for once. He shifted around in his nest until he could reach the food and ate slowly. Loving the feel of a stretched stomach. Two and a half cows in one day. He was so _stuffed_! He placed a hand onto his distended stomach and smiled peacefully. Licking the barbeque sauce from the dish. It tasted tangy and sweet at the same time and he loved it. 

    He dreamed of hunting that night. The woods. Something that was musky and had antlers. Deer. There was a whole herd of them. He took down two with ease and accidentally injured two others when they leaped the wrong way. He snapped their necks to keep them from suffering. The rest of the herd got away but he was satisfied. He dreamed of cooking one, eating two others nearly whole and then something about running... hiding... he ate the last deer after biting its head off and burying it. Why the hell did he need to bury it? The sensation of something on his back was odd. Like something was there. Squirming around when he struggled to swallow the last one. When he turned his head in the dream to look up at the sky, he saw nothing. Then a white cloud came down and surrounded him. His dream self didn't react but his current self coughed in it. It felt wrong. The feeling of watching and experiencing the event overlapped and soon the white clouds overhead enveloped him entirely. The fog was ticking him off royally. Despite being asleep this time. He slept restlessly after that. Images of men surrounding him, hurting him. Watching himself protecting something but gone before he could see what it was. It was _important._ Dear to him. Why can't he just _remember_? How many holes are in his head?

    Maybe one day he'll be whole again. Some day.

 

    Castiel and Balthazar actually got a good nights sleep for the first time since the dragon came under their care. Balth even made up his special pancakes and Castiel couldn’t wait to dig in, he was interrupted by a text from Michael reminding him about Meg's arrival that day. Saying that he'll be giving her a lift at about noon so Castiel will have plenty of time to prepare. He wondered if Michael meant the warehouse, dragon, or his own mental state. He vowed to himself that she would not get to push him around or make him feel as bad as he had been those long weeks after she left without so much as a reason _why_. Balthazar was there to help put him back together and focusing on something else. Luckily, The big discovery in the monster world had practically fallen at their feet at the same time that Castiel was knocked off of his in his personal life. Castiel made it his mission to find out everything there is to know about this new thing. He got all that and more. If you'd have asked him 5 months ago if he saw himself talking with something as big as a building and deadly as small army, as equals, he would have asked for more of the good stuff Balth usually drugged him with.

    He side eyed Balthazar now and then to the special pancakes. “Hey, Balth? What makes your special pancakes so special?” he lifted up the top one in the stack, syrup dripping down in sugary ropes. He licked his fingers unconsciously and then looked at the syrup bottle suspiciously.

    Balth was in mid chew when he responded, calm as ever, “A pinch of Acapulco Gold in the milk.”

    “What is that? Some kind of seasoning?”

    “Oh my sweet Cassie, no. It's MJ from Acapulco, very potent, very nice. Very hard to come by around here. Wes hooked me up.” At the continued confused expression Balth rolled his eyes and spelled it out. “Marijuana. _Weed_.”

    Castiel sputtered and pushed his plate away for a second, “What?! Are you kidding me?! What if Michael does drug tests? Have you been doping me up this whole time? I thought I felt more mellow lately.... You are such an _assbutt_!”

    Balth couldn’t hold back the smirk anymore. “Darling! You should see the look on your face! I didn't put the Mary Jane in yours.” Castiel squinted at him and looked back to his pancakes. “I put it in mine.”

    “Of course, yes, why didn't I realize that.” Castiel waved a hand in his direction. “I should have expected the walking apothecary to add some _enhancements_ to _pancakes_. Just... don't let Michael see you like that.”

    “Queen mums the word, Cassie. There’s more Gold in the tea tin over there if you'd like to try it out. Make sure you're with an adult when you go into your first foray.” He winked across the table at him and Castiel gave him a one fingered salute.

    “By the way, Cassie, did you ever find out the christian name of that herb Michael supplied you with?”

    Castiel frowned and looked to his briefcase, trying to remember what all he read. It was just supplied to him in a rather large cardboard box lined with paper towels to keep the moisture level stable. “No. I don't think so.”

    “Because let me tell you something. It was the best blunt I've ever had in my life.”

    Castiel gaped at him. “You what? You _smoked_ it?”

    “Just a taste. I wonder if Michael knows just how beautiful that herb is. I have been scouring the internet for its identity to find out where I can get more, so far nothing. What you were given was practically mulched already.

    “I can have Gadreel do a chemical compound test to find out its... wait! No! I am not going to be your drug dealer, Balth!”

    “Think about this instead, wouldn’t it do to know what you’re putting in Dean's veins? What if it's harmful to him in the long run. You said yourself that he seems to be suffering from bipolar disorder and anorexia. Among half a dozen more illnesses. Wouldn’t it behoove you to find out the identity of it?”

    Castiel mulled on it, practically sulking in how right Balthazar was. “Very well. But you are not allowed any more freebies until we find out what it is. Promise me you'll behave. I'm already walking on eggshells with Michael, I don't need my best friend and confidant showing up to work with bloodshot eyes and itchy skin.”

    Balthazar pointed to his chest and crisscrossed over his heart. “and hope to die. By the way, you don't get itchy skin with pot.”

    Castiel waved a dismissive hand at him and finished up his pancakes. Keeping a wary eye on his friend while he slowly ate his own. “Looks like I'm driving.”

    “Don't worry about it. I was planning on spending the day at home doing research. Wes and Brandon have already started looking for more information on your Ex and what the devil woman has been up to. So far the story checks out. After she left, she moved in with her brother and heard about the dragons somehow and started working for that zoo Dean and the other monsters were kept at. Apparently Dean and her were close but she left him shortly after he showed up at the military base. No one knows why.”

    “She's very good at leaving the ones that love her.” he bit out and looked towards the cabinet that held their liquor.

    “Nope. Not going to let you drink yourself stupid again.” He got up swiftly and angled Castiel's head towards the door. “You have work in an hour, if you leave now you'll get there well before she does.” He could see the pleading look in Castiel's eyes. All joking aside, he said somberly, “I could come with you if you like. Not a worry. I'll keep an eye on your boyfriend all day so that she wont have a chance to hurt anyone again.”

    Relief flooded Castiel's face when their eyes met, and he couldn’t speak, only nod his head in utter gratitude. He cleared his throat, then the table and put on his trench coat again. Hugging his elbows and when Balthazar was ready, he pulled out his keys and they made their way to work.

 

* * *

 

    “Bobby!”

    A noise of something falling told Sam that his old friend was in his study. He leaped down the stairs and into the room with his computer hugged to his chest protectively. Bobby got up from his chair and reluctantly used his new cane to walk over to Sam setting up in the kitchen table. A thick folder of papers pinned between the closed laptop. “What's got you peeing your pants at ass-o-clock in the morning?”

    “I found him!”

    Bobby's stiff legged walk hastened to the table faster, forgetting the pain in the joints as his eyes widened. “You're joking.”

    “No! I found out who took him from the zoo. He's not dead!”

    “Well don't keep me waiting, Boy! Where are we heading?”

    Sam's enthusiasm wavered for just a moment before he laid out the sheets of printed paper. He pointed out a few areal maps and to one that had obviously been taken by Google maps. Half of it was pixelated out because of what it was.

    At the lack of verbal response from the young Winchester, Bobby frowned, “Ok then, bad news first.”

    “It's a government facility. Think the Area 51 of northern Montana.” Sam sighed then added, “At least we know he's alive.”

    “You got evidence?”

    “Kinda. A very large living shipment was seen by several hunters heading that way. Rumors of a huge animal that was very dangerous. They were disappointed that they couldn't hunt it.” Sam bit out, “I thought they were transporting the mother to there but this thing wasn’t big enough apparently. The mother was practically Brachiosaurus altithorax size, while Dean is more Diplodocus carnegii, _big_ but not _that_ big. He had grown some these past months but still, the animal they were shipping was too small to be the mother. Unless... I guess, they could have found another dragon and this isn't Dean.” Sam stared off into space for a second. Only just now realizing that he could be wrong about this.

    Bobby looked through the papers and saw the same defeated look start to creep up on Sam's features that he'd seen all this time. He said confidently, “This is Dean. I can feel it. Now, tell me where we need to go.”

    Sam's watery eyes lifted to Bobby and he nodded firmly. “Right. It's located here, close to the mountains in this blurred out area. No doubt the government wants to keep this area a secret. Every single aerial view I found on the area online has been tampered with. A river that should run here to here is missing its middle. Rivers don't suddenly go missing for two perfect square miles then reappear out of nowhere. Especially without known underwater tunnels in the area. All flights are banned from the area, permanently, so that only leads to more evidence that there is something big there. And, here's the kicker, they have been having regular shipments of cows sent there for the past 4 months. The shipment order doubled last week at the same time as the shipment of the large animal. Through my research, I know for a fact that the mother is there, and it stands to reason that they'd want a male of the species there as well.”

    Bobby had that same old queasy feeling in his gut as he did the first time they considered that possibility. The people in charge there might not know that Dean was the offspring, and only seeing a male for their female. He looked to be full grown when that bastard Azazel kidnapped him. “Then we better move. Now.”

    Sam's heart beat faster, his endless searching was finally going to pay off. He's going to see his brother again. He just needed some supplies and a good disguise to get into that highly secured government facility. Fake FBI badges probably wont hold up under that level of scrutiny. But he'll be _damned_ if he's not going to try _everything_.

    Bobby was already back in his study, pulling together the spell book that he practically knows by heart by now, copies made and stored on each of there phones and all of the burners in the Impala, the papers folded into the seats and memorized by both men. They had gathered the spell's ingredients ages ago and now just need to find Dean before the equinox to try it out. Their deadline was fast approaching, March 20th. They had less then a month to find him, preform the ritual, and hope that Dean returns to normal. The spell was not intended to turn a dragon back into a human, but the only other spell that could work involved a heavy blood sacrifice. They memorized that one as well, but would only use it as a very last _desperate_ resort. Only if Dean had lost his humanity entirely and started mindlessly killing people. If the dragon can't be stopped in any other way, they'd use the second spell. It required more blood then any other spell they'd seen before. People would have to die for it to work.

    At the moment, it was not an option. But... if all else fails...

    Neither Sam nor Bobby wanted to think about that. The first spell will work. The ingredients are gathered, they just need the object in the right location at the right time and the right incantations. It was definitely the biggest thing the hunters had ever attempted. Normal hunts didn't even come close to the risk involved for them. If they did the spell wrong, missed a syllable, or mis-drew a line, Dean could be killed or worse, turned into a nearly indestructible, indiscriminate killing machine.

    Sam pulled himself back to the tasks at hand, giving himself a list to follow to the letter to keep from worrying about if things went sideways. He remembered a time when he and Dean were on a difficult hunt and while discussing in in the car, Dean was getting irritated with Sam's over thinking, he lifted up one of his old rock cassette tapes, “ _KISS_. Keep It Simple Stupid.” he declared and smirked at his little brother. The cassette was removed from its case and popped into the tape player. The echo of Dean's off key singing always in the background of Sam's thoughts. A comfort he found himself coming back to again and again.

    Ok. Gotta keep it simple.

    Step one, Pack the Impala.

    Step two, Drive to Montana...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is getting a little more like canon Cas. I felt I took too many liberties with Human Cas. Knowing that because he was always human he would actually 'understand that reference' and act more human, but he didn't feel like Cas to me. Fixing that now :)  
> Gonna get back to the roots :)  
> oh, and Michael is apparently on tumblr - I actually did find those on tumblr and wanted to share the adorableness!


	14. Relationship Roulette; he takes a shot, she takes a shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition time! wheee!!!!!  
> An extra long chapter because my writers block is now demolished and I have to make it up to y'all for the wait.
> 
> BTW while I was waiting for my muse to get off the John and come help me, I drew a picture of Dean photobombing in the background of the group pics. It's nestled in the beginning of Chapter 12 but the place it takes place in is towards the end of Chapter 11. Go look at the masterpiece! then get right back here for the revelations :)
> 
> and if y'all have any more photo requests, I'll be happy to give them a go! Bear in mind I suck the dingo's kidneys at drawing man-made things so keep the requests as organic as possible :)

Chapter Fourteen:

Relationship Roulette; he takes a shot, she takes a shot

 

 

    To keep himself from worrying about Meg's impeding visit, Castiel re-reads his first report back to Michael. This one was a kind of summary and guide to explain what they had in their possession if, for some reason, Michael had to get rid of the dragon. This report was just the first draft really. Sent in several days ago, before Michael's return visit. Michael had chuckled and sent it back to him asking for him to take a  _really good_ look at it and see if there was anything he wanted to edit before handing it in. Castiel read over it, not seeing anything overly wrong in particular but the blood drains from his face as he reads. Noticing that he sent in the wrong copy. His cursive personal notes littered nearly the whole page.

 

   Subject 2, known offspring of Subject 1 Female whose age is unknown, origin unknown, discovered 4 miles north of Freedersville Colorado. Subject 1 Female dubbed 'Eve' currently in stasis and under control in the US government's site, origin classified. 3 other offspring from Subject 1 were killed before hatching from leathery like eggs roughly 4 feet in diameter according to photo evidence of the destroyed nesting site. Tests suggest all 3 were females of varying physical attributes. See attachment for more details on Subject 1 'Eve', Subjects 1a, 1b, and 1c, and previous ownership of Subject 2.

   Subject 2, dubbed 'Freckles' is male, estimated to be approx 6 months old. Adolescent to Adult age, more information needed to verify maturity level. Observations on behavior and mannerisms suggest him to be the equivalent of a 20 year old human. Though severely traumatized and still recovering from numerous injuries, the age estimate is probably too low. It is roughly 2 / 3rds as large as its mother, Eve.

   Kingdom: Animalia Phylum: Chordata Sub-Phylum: Vertebrata Class: Reptilia Subclass: Diapsida Infraclass: Archosauromorpha Order: Dracoformes

   Measurements as of February 26th: Subjects height to top of skull minus horns: 26 feet 8 in. Subjects length, chest to base of tail: 15 feet approx. Tail length: 20 feet 2 in. Neck length from shoulder to top of skull: 9 feet 5 in. Arrow shaped head, snout to back of neck length: 4 feet 10 in. Arm shoulder height:17 feet 3 in. Body width widest point: 7 feet 2 in. Individual wing length longest point, index finger tip to wing shoulder: 32 feet 4 in. Wing form similar to bat's wings. 4 fingers and 1 thumb free of webbing, ending in black claw. The bone structure and location is comparable to elongated human hands. Wing base attach as a second set of shoulders just behind forearm shoulders. Webbing attaches along both sides of torso to rump ending a foot before tail base. Rough textured membrane thickness varies 2 in to 6 in. Entire wingspan tip to tip: 72 feet approx. Wing thumb extremity: 8 in. Curved black claws on hands, feet, and wing thumbs ranging from 2 in to 5 in. Head width widest point at base of jaw: 2 feet 11 in. Tapering off to 1 foot 1 in. between nostrils. Horn length 1 foot 7 in. Fore-paw wrist to claw, longest point: 4 feet 3 in. Hind-paw ankle to claw longest point: 3 feet 5 in. Side fan “ears” longest point: 8 in. Head weight approx.: 400 lbs Entire weight: unmeasured at this time. Size of eyeball: 6 in. approx. _greenest eyes I've ever seen._

   Subject appears to be severely malnourished. Recommend immediate increase in rations.

   More detailed descriptions and measurements will be located in following reports as they are taken.

   Also commonly known as an 'Early European' breed or 'West' dragon. Not to be confused with wingless 'Asian' 'East' dragons, nor 'serpents' or 'wyrms' which have fewer limbs, and at the moment, remain undiscovered and entirely theoretical.  
It is a reptilian creature of enormous size. It has fully developed wings that can propel it thru the air and presumably water as well. It can also sustain a hover pattern that only allows for minor flight adjustments. Meaning that the subject can only stay hovering still for a short amount of time before loosing height. It is built for mainly forward momentum in flight. Speed unknown. All are presumptions made based on appearance and body type as we have no record of it ever flying. The wing muscles show signs of atrophy due to its severely undersized living quarters for most of its life. _He may never fly._

   It is cold blooded in nature, and has scales of a strange quality. Reports showing they are lightweight but resistant to blunt force. When the scales are mature they are fireproof and surprisingly bullet proof but can be cut with a blade or needle. If the scales are not yet matured and hardened a little, they are flammable and bullets will also pass through them. _They shot him. How else would they know that?_ The scales covering its entire hide allows for great amounts of heat retention. Meaning that it can go for many hours, sometimes days without having to replenish its external heat source. It all matters in the level of sustained activity. I stipulate that it warms itself by setting outside resources on fire and then resting on or near it. Absorbing the heat secondhand rather then internally. They can manipulate large items, but the claws get in the way of most intricate work. This specimen can no longer produce flame. Its back molars were used to create the ignition by rubbing the top and bottom rear molars together creating a spark from their unique mineral makeup. I can only stipulate that the body uses minerals from its food in creating the special 'sparker' teeth. Likely magnesium. _Which might help explain why adding water was a terrible idea when trying to douse the flames, causing the explosion..._

   The flammable gas or spray is ignited immediately after it is excreted the hidden air sack inside its throat. The spray's chemical makeup is still unidentified. Sedation is necessary for surgery but have yet to find out a safe method of sedation that will not effect its normal functioning biology. All previous attempts to get at the contents of the flammable air sack have proved fruitless as it apparently needs to be conscious and willing to expel the air. Otherwise the air is most likely kept deep inside the lungs. Hopelessly out of reach unless we dissect the beast. _I am unwilling to kill the damned thing just for some toxic air to study._

   The flammable fume and spray is highly dangerous and noxious to humans if inhaled. _And if we wanted flammable fumes there's plenty we can manufacture without killing our only viable specimen of 'dragon'. Seriously. Is this the only thing they're focused on? How to steal his defenses? That his weapons are the only thing we can learn from him?_

 _Find a better way to word this paragraph →_ Its cognitive processes are limited and its capacity to adapt is apparently small according to my predecessors. They remarked that it is suffering from depression, but is comparable to how a wild carnivorous animal would act in captivity. I don't have much behavioral or previous physical information to go on. From what I was able to gather, is that the previous military facility destroyed most evidence of Subject 2's incarceration there. It was seen as humiliating that their test animal was able to get loose and run amok. Before their higher ups could get wind of their failure, they destroyed most of the evidence that proved it was ever there to begin with. The General claims that it was the security team that shorted out the storage computers, but most are saying that the dragon itself had a hand it the information elimination before they managed to get it back under control. Initially, the whole incident started when, during its 'sparker' teeth removal procedure, it had managed to fool them all into thinking it was still under sedation when it reared its head at the computer bank and set fire to every piece of equipment along the four walls where it could reach. The nature of its flammable liquid like material burns like an acid. No small amount of water can put it out, and so they had no choice but to let the fire burn the building to the ground. No one was injured but much information was lost. The fire spread and the dragon was left inside as the entire building burned and fell around him. _Bastards didn't even try and pull him from the fire before the building was reduced to near ashes. It's a miracle that he wasn’t crushed or burned to death._

   Subject 2 was eventually pulled from the wreckage, dazed and half dead and still bound in a metal net, airlifted and dropped into an empty half-demolished underground missile silo nearby. They managed to remove the back teeth that it grinds to create the ignition spark. Without them it wont be able to set any more fires unless it has access to an open flame. They forcefully removed all four of his 'sparker' teeth and one other with crowbars and metal bats. They likely were going to kill him but the General stopped them from inflicting further damage. 

   Thankfully, everyone was safely evacuated before the fire spread, only minor injuries reported. The building is a total loss. Subject 1 'Eve' was being kept across the compound in a separate underground facility where she had been in stasis for months. Subject 2's body was very weak and one hind leg bone fractured when an I-beam fell onto it as the building came down. _He seems to be fine now. Or he's hiding the wound well. I can't even tell which bone was broken._

   It was drugged again, just as it was starting to regain full consciousness, and put in the back of a semi truck. It was transferred to three different storage container trucks before it ended up in Michael's possession yesterday. We are already building a much larger holding facility for the poor dragon, enough room for him to stretch and move around. Hopefully it can build up some muscle mass and get the wing muscles a chance to move and become stronger.

_What good would that do since it's unlikely that he will ever be allowed to fly. Well at least he's not going to be cramped up all the time._

_What the hell am I supposed to do with him? My superiors took a look at my cryptozoology reports and seemed to think that I was the best candidate for finding a purpose for this sad thing. If I can't by the end of the year, they will likely remove me from my tenuous position and probably dissect it completely. As weird as this sounds, I don't want to see this thing be killed. True it's ridiculously dangerous, but there's something about it that screams for mercy. I want to learn all I can from him but I'm not sure if he's willing to cooperate. I guess I will have to give it my best shot or he will die and I’ll be sent home again to deal with my messy divorce and try and find another job. That's assuming that I wont be the laughingstock of the entire crypto community. Man, why did they pick me?_

 

_Delete this ramble of mine before sending it in. If I show sympathies for this thing they might take me off of the project and I doubt that they'd find someone who gives a damn about him._

 

_For future reports, I can write about all this stuff._

_Some potential militaristic purposes of the dragon are:_

_Heat signature is low so it is hard to detect using flier imaging._

_No motors so no extremely loud sounds._

_Scales dampen radar a bit so hard to detect with current detection devices._

_Same goes for IR.(Infrared)_

_Massive strength so large payloads can be deployed._

_Fire can be produced by exuding a viscus produced spray like substance that is ignited in the mouth. Good for anti personnel._

_Send this in once you get it looking like a proper report._

 

 

   Castiel's blush is all over his face when he takes a permanent marker and vigorously blackens out his extra comments. A scowl marring his otherwise distinguished and stoic features.

   Castiel turns over the paper quickly as if that will keep his boss from seeing and reading it days ago. He buried his head under his arms on his desk and moaned. “I am so screwed.” with that oh so helpful voice in the back of his head actually being helpful this time. 'Michael read it and didn't fire you yet. I'd say you're good. Just don't do that again.'

   He agreed with his other half and shoved the paper into his desk, slamming it shut and looking at the clock yet again. 10 minutes until Meg shows up. Michael was initially going to escort her in but had last minute things to deal with. Castiel didn't bother to ask. He had his backup already here and spending a little quality time bonding with Dean.

   He got up from his desk, glancing hatefully at the drawer that held his literary shame and left his office. His grin widened as he saw Balthazar and Dean playing a game of rock-paper-scissors for who gets to eat the last beef jerky stick. Barely a crumb to Dean but he was clearly playing for keeps.

   “Aaaaand go!” they pumped their fists in the air and Dean came up with rock again. “Dean! I don't think you understand the concept of this game.” Dean growled at him, eyes narrowing. “You are allowed to choose other things besides rock. Here, this is paper,” he flattened his hand and showed it to Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and copied him. “This is scissors, scissors cuts paper.” and made his forefinger and middle finger cut the air and then cut the paper. Dean exaggerated the movement and huffed at him. “Rock breaks scissors,” showing in one hand a rock and the other scissors and smashing it. “And paper beats rock.” covering up the rock with the paper hand. He jut out his hands to the enormous Dragon looming over him. Questioning why this was such a difficult concept to follow.

   'why?' Dean signed.

   “why? Why what?”

   'Why paper beats rock. Rock is strong. It can break paper.'

   “Han _naaahhhh_... he's doing that thing again where he's talking too fast. Can you please come over here???” Balthazar whined. “oh hey Cassie. Dean-o and I were just about to do battle.”

   Hannah arrived and sighed dramatically at Balthazar and nodded respectfully at Castiel. “Hey Boss. Can I be excused? I'd like to go back to work now.”

   “Later, later, now tell me what Deanzilla is saying.” Balthazar grinned and motioned to Dean again. Dean sighed just as exasperatedly as Hannah did, and signed his questions to her.

   “Paper beats rock because that's just how the game is played. I know it doesn’t make any sense.” she shrugged. “My 4 brothers and I usually just wrestle our disagreements out. I usually win.” She puffed up with pride. Dean gave her form a once over and then a thumbs up. She must have some serious skills in combat. She grinned wider and signed, 'thanks', before remembering he isn't actually deaf. “They stopped letting me win when I started leaving scars. Now, they do the smart thing and concede the fight before it starts. Usually.”

   Dean smirked at that and signed, 'wouldnt want to meet you in dark alley'. And huffed a laugh.

   “Nor would you want to try me at Rochambeau!” which got a confused stare from the dragon and men. “your game, its real name. Rock-paper-scissors. Same rules, paper still beats rock.” she shrugged again up at Dean.

   Castiel spoke up. “If a tree seed started to grow inside a rock crevice, over time its roots and expanding water will break the rock up. Dean, paper comes from trees and that is how paper can beat rock.”

   “Leave it to you to find a scientific way to explain rock-paper-scissors.”

   “You're welcome.” he grinned and asked Dean, “So why do you pick rock every time?”

   Dean shrugged and signed, 'feels right'.

   “Huh.” Balth and Cas said at the same time.

   The door to the warehouse gave the warning tone indicating that someone was on the other side. A guard was already there and asking for credentials. Castiel's heart-rate skyrocketed. He spent all this time messing around with old reports and playing around with Dean rather then getting himself prepared to meet his Ex-wife again. Balthazar's hand was on his shoulder at some point and he just now noticed it. He took a breath and gave a grateful look to his old friend and patted the hand for it to release him. He schooled his features and started the long dreaded walk to the entrance.

   Dean was suddenly very tense. He could smell the spike in fear from Cas and then from Balth but slightly dulled. Like he was expecting the visitor to cause this reaction in Cas. He lifted up his head to easily see over everyone there and inhaled sharply when he saw a familiar biped walk closer. She stopped short, looking up at Dean and smiled wide.

   Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. Why the hell was _she_ here? How did she find him? Is she just here to make fun of him? Take him back to that hell hole? Kill him for disrespecting her at the soldier base? He was bound and determined not to let that happen. He liked it here with Cas and Hannah and even Balth. He growled low at her, baring his fangs and splaying his wings wide to show her that he is not to be fucked with.

   Her startled gaze fell from Dean's display to the man that was walking up to her. Filling her old line of sight to Dean. “Castiel! What are you doing here?!” She belted out. Taking several steps away like she wanted to run.

   He sighed heavily to steel his nerves. He wasn't going to answer any of her questions. She didn't deserve that yet. She left more questions then answered all those months ago. “The real question is, what are your intentions here. Dean doesn’t seem to like you very much.” he said, not having to turn and look to hear Dean's upset grumbles.

   Dean is clearly agitated and decides to start pacing to loosen up some of the tension in his muscles. Cas still reeked of anxiety and now anger. Meg was pissing his Cas off. She herself smelled of distress. Good. He started growling louder at Meg from behind his bars. His wings akimbo with the thumb claws flexing in and out of fists. A small current of air being pushed around by his huge wings in the confines of the warehouse as they opened and shut in loose fists. His hands dig into the concrete, pebbling the floor wherever he walks. Balth even takes a few steps back from the cage but Dean barely notices. Eyes only for the traitor.

   “I -I came because I care about him.” she stammered and looked over to see Dean pace the other way now, eyes filled with unmistakable hatred. “Even if he doesn't like me right now,” the way she said it implying that he will forgive her. He snorted at that and lifted up his lip more to show off his sharp fangs. Her breath caught in her throat for a second but she forced out, “I can't change the past.” and stood firmly in place. Seeing her former husband here of all places was startling but her mind supplied the facts. Balthazar was calling him up that morning for the dragon so of course he'd have been searching for it for as long as it takes. She caught herself before congratulating him on finally getting what he had always wanted. Proof. The praise died on her tongue as she looked at Dean again. Guilt crashing in all around her. Two men in her life that she cared for and left alone. Nothing for it. She had to keep going. “I don't want to see him get hurt.”

   “Neither do I.” Cas ground out. Glaring pointedly at her.

   “Meg shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Ok. There's no point beating around the bush. Azazel wants him back. He knows that the zoo was destroyed and that Dean was taken. He doesn’t know who took him yet but he is royally pissed and when Azazel gets pissed, he gets creative.”

   “Find the point and get to it.” Castiel folded his arms in front of his chest. As if blocking Dean from harm.

   “Azazel threatened my brother! I tried calling him but he wouldn't answer his cell. And he _always_ answers, he's practically a cyborg.”

   “For what reason would Azazel harm your brother?”

   “He thinks I know where Dean went. All the others that worked at the zoo skipped town when he did and somehow he knows that I was still in the area.”

   “So? Call the police! What does Dean have to do with your brother getting kidnapped.”

   “If I don't hand him over, Azazel is gonna kill my brother!”

   Dean was upset at all the shouting from his former friend and his new friend. Apparently his old master wants him back and is threatening to murder someone if he doesn’t return home. 'I dont want to go back.' he signed near frantically. Hannah was able to read the distressed sign language and translate for him as he went on. 'I like it here. Cas is nice. Azazel isnt. I dont want to go!'

   “You don't have to go anywhere Dean. You're safe here. Meg is now leaving.”

   “You can't be serious Clarence!”

   At that Dean perked up his ears. Cas is _Clarence_? But Clarence was Meg’s ex-husband. The jerk. No way is Cas him.

   Meg looked to Dean at his confused glances she said, “Dean, this is my ex-husband Castiel. I used to call him Clarence because he used to be an angel.” she looked up into Castiel's eyes and was sad she no longer found love there. “He didn’t tell you that did he?”

   Dean shook his head. Cas didn’t say what his ex's name was but he didn’t hide the fact he was married before from Dean. Seems a silly thing to do. Cas nodded at him and said, “But we got divorced. You left me. You didn’t even give me a reason _why_!”

   The other workers in the building were just leaving out of respect for their boss's privacy. They quietly got their things and snuck out when the shouting started. The guards were still there, trying hard not to intervene, and hanging back unless their boss gave the command. Cas didn’t even notice or care that the warehouse was near empty. Here he finally got the chance to take some answers out of her. “Why the hell did you take off in the middle of the night with all your stuff? Like I was going to _steal it_ from you or something. Like I would have done something bad to you or your stuff if you said something about how you feel towards me before going. I'm not that petty. I would have listened. Why didn’t you even try talking to me about what was bothering you? Why did you just up and leave?”

   She fidgeted a little, wringing her hands in her bulky purse. Refusing to look him in the eyes. Her long black wavy hair fell in front of her face when she looked down at her suddenly interesting feet.

   “Answer me, _MEG_!”

   “Because I wasn’t in love with you anymore! I couldn’t take the pain that I knew you'd be in when I left. I couldn't see you go through that and I can't make you understand what I was feeling.”

   “And what are you feeling now? Huh? That you actually care? Because from where I'm standing it looks like you only care for yourself and your brother. You don't give a damn about me or Dean. You are gonna sell him out to save your own skins instead of standing up to your old boss. We aren't the ones that signed up to be the devil's bitch. I'm not gonna let Azazel or you torment him OR me any further!” he shouted and pointed towards the door.

   Meg's jaw dropped she was not expecting anything like this. “You value his life over a humans?”

   “I value his life over yours any day of the week.” he declared, “I'd value a _dog's_ life over yours at this point. At least _dogs_ are _faithful_!” he shouted and jabbed his hand towards the door again. Narrowly missing hitting her side. She flinched and he dropped his hand down immediately. Scared what he'd do if he actually hit her. His apology died before it was uttered and a firm look was aimed at her wide eyes instead. A moment passed with her heavy, near panicked breaths were heard at the same time as his own angry breaths being forced out of his nose. For all the world sounding like an angry bull snorting at the matador, readying a charge.

   “I think you should go.” Balthazar spoke up, relatively calmly as he stood in front of Dean's cage. Dean stopped his pacing and was glaring at her. To hear what happened from Cas's point of view, added onto what he just witnessed, she really was a coward. She had every chance in the world to take out Azazel in the past while she worked there. Poisoning the bastard, sniper shooting him, hell, she could have even let loose some monsters like Dean did and have _them_ do the job. His mind threatened to fog white again at that memory that popped up but he shoved it all aside. No time for memory lane bullshit. He focused on the here and now and felt the fog lift. His train of thought came back at full steam when he saw his best friend standing there, feeling some of what he was feeling. She didn't even bothering to try and patch things up with him. Who wouldn't want to be Cas's friend? Cas was amazing! Why wouldn’t he be an awesome husband? He's kind, and caring, and generous, but not a wimpy pushover. He gets shit done and takes care of everyone under his supervision. A natural born alpha. Everyone can tell he's a good leader. Dean included. Even though Dean is supposed to be considered a test animal, Cas is changing the way he sees Dean, and vice-versa. Dean's not some mindless heartless beast. Every single day that passes, Cas and Dean are getting closer in their friendship. Dean cares so much for Cas, more then Meg did for Cas, and more then Dean felt for Meg as well. Azazel was just an asshole. He can see that now. Controlling. Manipulative. Demented. Above all, just cruel for the simple enjoyment of it. There was no reason for Dean to want to return to that life.

   Castiel lifted his finger again, pointing firmly at the door and looking quickly around the warehouse, seeing that there was now just a skeleton crew here. A part of him wondered where his team went, how much they saw, but was now grateful that they'd left before watching him loose his temper like this. He ground his teeth together so hard his jaw hurt.

   Meg spoke up suddenly, “I can help you! I can help Dean! Just listen to what I have to say, _let me stay_.”

   “Speak quickly then get out.” Cas growled out.

   Meg nodded a little. Coming to terms with the fact that she was outgunned here. “Ever wonder how I was able to find Dean?”

   Castiel squinted at her unkindly.

   “The military wouldn’t tell me where he was so I had to use another method. This is the main reason why Azazel knows that I know where Dean went.”

   “Spit it out already!”

   “Dean has a tracking chip in him.”

   All eyes went to the dragon. He had no idea what that was and looked back to them, shrugging. He turned to Hannah, 'what is that?' the others honestly forgot she was still there, standing still and quiet until Dean faced her again.

   “A tracking chip is a tiny machine that people put in animals so that when they get lost that person can find them again, usually using a radio signal. Sometimes they use satellites as well, if its a GPS equipped tracker chip. Uh, you know about cell phones right?” Dean nodded. “Well, think of this like a tiny tiny cell phone that someone put inside your body. They have another cell phone and are able to pick up the location of your phone with it.”

   Dean backed up into the rear of his cage. Looking all over his body and turning, twisting, freaking out. Wings flapping to get out of the way so he can search under and over them. 'get it out!' he signed quickly and ran up to the people on the other side of the bars. He reached through towards Meg who must know where it is. She backed up with a gasp and held up her hands for him to stay back. Balthazar was faster then her retreating form, and went around behind her, holding her in place before she decided to take off again.

   “Where did you put the tracking chip?” Balthazar growled out this time into her ear.

   “I don’t know where it was injected! I just know that he has one and I was able to find him with this.” She produced a small machine and then pulled out the antennae from the top, waving it in Dean's direction and they all heard a clicking sound as she aimed it at him then slowly aimed it away as the clicking faded.

   “Give me that.” Cas demanded and strolled over to Meg.

   She hesitated for a second, holding it to her chest. “I give this to you and my brother is as good as dead!”

   Balthazar spat out, “It's not our fault you decided to work for Azazel. Now hand the lovely walkie talkie over or I’ll hand _you_ over to Dean and he will take it from you in a decidedly less friendly and gentle way.”

   “Bastard.” she said with tears falling from her eyes. She handed it over and Balthazar let her go. Cas motioned for a guard to come over and she was held firm in his grip.

   “Cuff her and put her in my office until I decide what to do with her.” Castiel ordered and she was led away.

   Balthazar poked around the machine for a moment and got it to work again, aiming at Dean and hearing the clicks again. Dean clicked back with a raised eyebrow.

   'is it trying to talk to the chip?' He signed and Hannah translated.

   “Uhh, yeah. That's kinda what it's doing. The chip is talking back. We just have to find out where in your body it is.”

   Dean shuddered. There was something inside his body right now. Something that was used to track him down like an animal. He felt so invaded and small. Like property again. A voice from long ago said, 'if found please return to -' and it cut out again. He got the impression it was for a missing dog. More images flared up and he saw sheets of paper with the word 'missing' written on the top in big bold letters and a face underneath it. The faces all changing along with the backgrounds of the papers. A feeling of determination every single second a new MISSING picture popped up and another victim's face on the front. They flashed by like a flipbook but stopped suddenly as one was being held up by a familiar face with no name. That tall brown haired kid again. Holding up one of them and those strange biped hands reaching out from his viewpoint to take it from the other one's hands. Holding it up to his face. This one had a different word on the top and a face that felt so damned familiar on the front. WANTED. The photographed biped's face was handsome enough for a biped, freckles, just like he had, short blond hair that spiked up and the tall kid seemed to be upset that the piece of paper even existed. Looking at it like it had insulted his mother. Or looking at the photo of the guy and then the tall kid... maybe... _brother?_

   “Dean? You ok? You're doing that thing again.”

   He shook his head a little, eyes coming back to look over to his friend. 'what thing?'

   “You get all spaced out, start to lay down, and it looks like your heart is racing. It's gonna be ok. The last time you got like this you actually collapsed. We don't want that, ok? So whatever is going on in your head, forget about it.”

   'thats the problem.'

   “What does that mean?” Balth asked, hand raising like he wanted to pat him on the arm. He looked at the arm in question and dropped his own. Something that big probably wouldn't even register as anything to the huge thing. Dean moved his head sluggishly to Balth and grinned a little. He nose bumped Balth in his stomach for the effort. Balthazar had to steady himself after that and patted the bridge of Dean's nose. Dean snorted and then lifted up his head again to alleviate some of the weight from his forearm so he could keep signing. Hannah translated.

   'trying to remember past. It hurts my head.'

   “Remember your past?” Dean nodded. “What are you trying to remember?”

   'tall kid brown hair.'

   “Ah. Yeah. You said you can't place where you know him?” another shake of Dean's head.

   'always there. Here. In my head. Past.' the white fog in Dean's head threatened to take him down but he tried to shove past it again. 'wanted, missing.' he signed and panted heavily, eyes screwing shut.

   “What's missing?”

   Dean huffed a laugh between pants. Cas was surprised he could tell the difference. 'everything missing.'

   “We will figure it out later, ok? But right now Balthazar and I need to come closer to find the chip. Is it ok with you if we do that?” Dean shrugged and swallowed down a pant to start to calm his breathing and heart. 'sure' he signed. Balthazar followed Cas into the cage, holding out the radio and waving it all over. The clicks didn’t seem to be able to pinpoint where they were coming from but since Dean was so huge it might be easier once they're right on top of him. Dean laid down and stretched out a little. Resting his head out on the ground at Cas's request. From the office, Meg was surprised that the others were actually in the cage with Dean and no weapon of defense on either of the men.

   “Is Dean really letting them do that?”

   The guard regarded her with skepticism. “You spend all that time with him and you never even got close?”

   “It's a dragon. How stupid do you think I am?”

   The guard shrugged. “Maybe stupid isn't the right word.” he said and added. “Dean has let the boss come close for days now. Shaking hands, patting Dean's head, wings, arms. Hell, Jay even told me he saw that Mr. Novak was allowed to stick his hand inside the dragon's mouth to check out his missing teeth. Like some kind of circus performer sticking his head in a lion's mouth. I think the dragon actually likes him. Not in the 'biblical' sense, but Mr. Novak is the only one that Dean had let get close. Since Balthazar is Castiel's friend, he was the second one to be allowed into cage without getting hurt. Everyone else gets a growl, hiss or a threat to set them on fire. Even though he can't ignite it, that stuff is still scary as hell if you get it on you. Any spark at all and you are a goner along with everyone and everything else around you.”

   “And you let Clarence in there with him?”

   “Nobody 'lets' Mr. Novak do anything. He's the boss. We all answer to him, and he is a good man. We would follow him even if he wasn't our boss because we know that he is a natural born leader. He looks out for all of us and so we try and look out for him.”

   “By letting him go into a cage with a monster?”

   “Dean is no more of a monster then you are. I heard that you let him be tortured for months. Who is the real villain here?” Meg shut her mouth after that. Practically pouting.

   Back at the cage, Cas and Balth are looking up towards Dean's back. “It seems to be up there but...”

   'but what?' Dean signed, hand outstretched a little.

   “We would have to uh, get on your back to look closer.” Dean considered this and shrugged. “You're really ok with this?”

   'why not?' he signed and then turned his head to look at both of them at once, 'just dont hurt me.' He signed and looked at them a little warily now.

   “Dean. I swear. We will _not hurt you_. And I don’t think that our weight will cause you any discomfort. Is there any sore spots or sensitive areas we should steer clear of?”

   Dean huffed a laugh. 'dont step on my eyeball and youre fine.' He signed and Hannah translated with a chuckle.

   “No promises.” Cas deadpanned. Dean stretched a wing out and nudged Cas in the side then lowered it to the ground.

   “Did you... did you just give us a ramp?”

   Dean shrugged again and nodded, wiggling the wing a little. Cas and Balthazar silently agreed that Cas should go first because Dean was more at ease with him. It was such an odd sensation to stand on another living thing that was so so much bigger then any other land animal currently in existence. He felt a thrill run down his spine at that first step. He tensed when Dean shuttered a little. “You ok Dean?”

   'memories.' his brow furrowed. 'white fog covering them up.'

   “What? A white fog?” Cas stepped off of his wing wrist again and came around to Dean's face.

   Dean nodded a little and looked like he was trying to do calculus in his head. He shook his head and was a little surprised to see Cas right there in his personal space. He had to duck back a little just to focus on him. 'dude back up'.

   “Apologies.” he said and backed up. He then folded his arms and insisted, “Tell me about this white fog.”

   Dean looked over to Balth who was also coming around to talk. 'find chip first'. He motioned with his nose for them to get on with it. His wing folded forward a little but Cas frowned at it. There weren't exactly easy footholds on the webbed surface. Dean signed, 'I wont let you fall'. And with that hand he cupped it and held it close to his shoulder for Cas to use instead of the wing. His wing came around and held steady so Cas could hold onto the thumb while he climbed onto the hand.

   Cas took a deep breath and put his food onto Dean's hand thumb and reached for his wing thumb. Dean held tight but not crushingly so as he guided Cas up. One Cas got both feet on Dean's hand he lifted it up the rest of the way with a grunt of discomfort at the odd angle. Cas hastily climbed off of the hand and the wing guided him further onto the wide back. Cas had to watch where he stood because of Dean's rather large sharp spikes all along his spine. One wrong move and he'd be singing falsetto. Castiel then held out a hand as Balthazar got up onto Dean's hand and was also lifted. They steadied themselves on his back and he let his hand drop, jostling the two on top.

   “I can see my house from here.” Balthazar joked and Cas squinted at him. “Charlie and the Chocolate factory? Really high up in the air? It's a famous quote, Cassie.” he said exasperatedly. “Movie night. You’re not skipping it again.” he jabbed a finger at Cas who stumbled a little. Dean's wings were suddenly there, snapped upright to keep him from falling.

   “Whoa shit!” Balth stumbled and held out his hands to the wings on either side of him. Cas did the same on instinct and Dean turned his head to check on them. “Ok. Uh... thanks?”

   Dean gave a quick nod and lowered the wings just enough so that they could see out again.

   “Ok, let's uh, get to work.” Castiel said and with Balthazar's help, they started to scan Dean's wings first since they hadn’t been folded up yet. Balth felt around for any odd bumps but Dean's whole hide was bumpy with the uneven scales. Texturing to split up his outline in the woods. Smooth shapes were easier to pick up in messy surroundings like trees, rocks, and shrubs. Here in this concrete building, he stood out as the messy shape amid straight lines and blank spaces.

   “Right wing is done, you can lower it if you want.” Cas patted it and Dean folded it in a little. His left wing twitched as their scans now hovered over that one. Dean started to bite his lip and kept stealing glances at the two on his back. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the first time bipeds were on him, but not even Alistair or Azazel got up there. He forced himself not to think about it but kept coming back to the idea that having passengers wasn't the same for him as it must be for horses or other living rides. He felt more like he was able to keep them safe if they were right there. He caught himself thinking that he didnt want to let them down again. His right wing came back up slowly of its own volition and he let it. They didn't seem to notice or mind. Their feet kinda tickled though as they walked along his spine, avoiding the spines that stuck up at regular intervals. Not so many that he couldn't be flexible, but enough to keep him from curling up carelessly. He poked his own self more then once with them.

   He wondered if it would hurt if he gnawed off the sharp points so he didn't have to worry about poking out an eye or hurting a biped on accident. One of the spines between his shoulders was shorter then the rest, and it was this one that Cas and Balth were moving to next.

   “The clicking is getting more frequent over here.” Cas announced and Dean had a little difficulty turning his head around so tightly. He adjusted his position and both of the men were knocked down to the side. Dean caught them with his wing and kept on adjusting so he was leaning on one side. Finally able to look at them.

   “Dean! Warn us next time you decide to roll over!” Balth admonished as he straddled his friend. They both used Dean's wing forearm to stand up, more or less and hover the radio over his two sets of shoulders. The clicking turned into a hum because it was going so fast and Balthazar rubbed his hands along Dean's stumpy spine.

   “It must be in here.” he murmured to Cas who nodded. There was scarring all around the spine now that they took a closer look and realized that it was only half the size it should be. “Dean? Did someone remove this spine when you were younger?”

   Dean looked to the one in question and when Balth put his hands on it and nudged it, the memory came flooding back. Alistair and his knives. Tearing. Cutting. _Ripping_. Dean shifted forward sharply and just as the two were about to fall off he caught them both in his right hand. Clutching it tight like they were an oddly shaped tennis ball, his hand easily overpowered them both. He thumped it to the ground, palm side up and gave only the briefest looks of apologies as he dumped them to the ground like dice. His hand flipped back around, palm side down again, and slammed down next to them to push off from the ground. His torso and rear lifted to a hasty crouch and scooted away quickly as if he were going to be beaten.

   He whined from the corner, watching Cas and Balth disentangle their limbs and get to a stand again with much grunting and awkward hand placing. Dean was shivering from the memories. Alistair made sure he would remember _this_ one. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to steady himself. He is safe now. Alistair isn't here. He's safe. Cas said he wont hurt him. It's safe. Safe. His wings twitched and he curled up tighter on instinct as Cas and Balth finally stood up again. Looking rumpled as all hell. They walked over, but were closer to the bars then before, ready to jump out of the cage if Dean really was having a mental breakdown.

   “Dean?” Cas crept closer, hands out to show he was unarmed. “Dean, you ok buddy?”

   Dean just looked at him with a mix of fear and trust. He nodded a little and signed, 'u wont hurt me'. Seeming to take comfort in that. Cas looked back to Balth and they both started to smell of something bitter. Dean took a second to get a good whiff. They were about to lie. That's what liars smell like. 'no hurt right?'

   “Yes, Dean. We wont hurt you.” the scent stronger then ever.

   'liar'. He stated. His heart hurt and his lungs felt too tight. 'liar'. He signed again, sadness drenching his whole form.

   Cas shook his head. Refusing to loose what trust they had been working on. “The chip is embedded in that shorter spine. I'm guessing that when they removed it, they implanted the chip and let the spine grow around it. The only way to get the chip out is if we remove the spine again.”

   Balthazar gave him a look, and Cas defended himself, “He deserves to know. This is his body and his choice.”

   Balth resigned, “Dean, Darling, we have to remove it. If there is another machine like this one, then they'll be able to find you again. If you don't want that to happen, we have to remove it and destroy it immediately. I swear, we can do it with you sedated. You wont feel a thing.” Balthazar said, “I'm sorry we lied.”

   He considered this and saw and smelled that they were now telling the truth. The bitter scent vanishing. He took a few more sniffs to confirm it and the others looked at each other.

   “Did you just sniff us?” Dean nodded. “Why?”

   'can tell your feelings better'. He signed and Hannah translated.

   Hannah spoke up, “He must be able to detect our pheromones and hormones in the air. Our abilities to do the same are not nearly as honed in but we can detect them too. It's more on a subconscious level. You know how you meet someone and you just 'know' if they are a good person or not?” the others understood and she grinned. “He's just more aware of them then we are.”

   'you all are good'. He signed and smirked a little. They obviously took it as a huge compliment but had to get back to business.

   “We're gonna have to discuss this. Dean? Sit tight, ok? We are just gonna have a chat with our 'guest'.” Cas ground out and went forward to pat Dean on his forearm. Dean lowered his head and nuzzled Cas's chest. His hands went up and started to affectionately rub Dean's long nose. A deep purr rumbling all around him and through him as Dean's eyes fluttered closed. “You like this?” Cas asked even though the evidence was vibrating his whole body. “Ok, I'll be back later alright?” He rubbed extra hard along the nose and ended with his knuckles dragging between his nostrils at the front. Dean resisted the urge to pull in the biped for a proper cuddle after that. Cas laughed and Dean loved that sound but before he could snake his hands around his best friend, Cas slipped away and through the bars. Balth was already halfway to the office.

   Dean huffed, but sat up dutifully as he watched them go back into the office to speak with the traitor.

   Castiel walked back to his office with the small radio in hand, gripped tightly as if it were Azazel's neck. “It's in between all four of his shoulders. A spot riddled with nerve bundles and intricate muscles. Azazel is a real piece of work. A wrong move and Dean could have been paralyzed. His arms and wings useless. It's gonna be hell trying to get it out from that area too. We could end up crippling him for life. I can't pinpoint the location but it seems to be under a spike that is shorter then the others on his back. Did they remove it when he was younger?”

   Meg sat up straighter and the cuff clinked together as she wrung her hands. “Maybe? I seem to recall Azazel wanting to put a damned saddle on him and ride him like a horse. He had Alistair remove two of his spikes shortly after he first got there. One behind his head and the other right where you're saying.”

   “Who's Alistair?”

   “Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention.” she said, Castiel wasn’t sure if she was playing coy or honestly forgot, “Alistair is the one that 'trained' him.” Air quotes in full force accompanied by a distasteful sneer. “When I first met Dean, it was after the first time he was tortured. I had no idea what they did. I _swear_. I thought it was simple training. Training a wild bear is not the same as training a dog who is eager to please. They were trying to make him docile and break his will.” she rubbed a hand over her eye and it came back wet. Castiel shifted his stance and refused to feel anything for her. “They broke more then that. I had no idea what was really going on. He's not the first monster to go to the zoo and -”

   “He's not a monster.” Castiel cut in firmly.

   Meg raised an eyebrow and leaned over to look at Dean. “Sure Clarence.”

   Castiel looked intensely pissed at her. “He may be the first thing that I've seen in person that wasn’t human or animal, but he is far from the worst monster out there. Now keep going with your story and don’t disrespect him again.”

   Meg considered Castiel's outburst and continued, “The other... creatures... that Azazel had at the zoo were monstrous. Dangerous. Until he trained out the bad behavior. Just.. with a little more negative reinforcement then is necessary. The other handlers explained it better, since the creatures were generally intelligent _and_ dangerous, you had to use a firmer hand then you would with a normal animal. You know me. I'd never seen anything that bizarre in my life! I believed them, they seemed to know what they were talking about because they had more experience. I mean, when we were together I let you do your own thing. I thought it was interesting as well but I never believed that it was real. Then...” she hesitated. Reluctant to talk about the day she left to the guy that she left standing right in front of her with a loyal armed guard standing behind him. “Uh, Castiel? Can he step outside? I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with Rambo over there.”

   Castiel glared at her, knowing what she wanted to talk about and then half turned around to wave his hand to the guard to wait outside. “Can you make sure that there's no surprises waiting for us outside the building? If our guest here invited backup?”

   “You really think I'd come here with backup? Like I'd just steal him away?”

   “Isn't that why you came here? To do just that?” Castiel bit out and said, “Tell me why you left that day to hunt monsters and came to work for one instead.”

   “Fine.” she was going to cross her arms but the cuffs pulled at her wrists instead. She made an irritated noise and pushed her hands to her knees. “When I was packing up with my brother, I heard Balthazar's voice messages all morning. It was getting really annoying. I was tempted to just unplug it while we worked but left it alone for you.”

   “Thanks for the consideration.” He growled out.

   “Any-way. You heard them too, since you're here. You're _welcome_.” she said snidely. Like she should be given a medal for not being an _excessive_ bitch. “At first I thought it was just another one of his wild goose chases, but as we got done packing, it sounded like he really did find something. On the drive to my brother's friend's house, it kept playing in my head. Over and over. I suppose I kept on thinking about it so I wouldn’t have to think about what I was doing to you.” her voice got quieter at the end and she finally looked him in the eyes with a glimmer of regret.

   Castiel refused to acknowledge it and waved his hand for her to continue. “So...” she said, nearly a whisper. “I did some digging of my own. When I wasn't busy trying to find a new place to put my stuff. I found this thing online. Do you know what hunters are?”

   “Hunters?”

   “Yeah. Not regular animal hunters. Like monster hunters. Guys that go out and find and kill the dangerous monsters out there.”

   Castiel ruminated on that and remembered that months ago, Balthazar and his gang came across that website for hunters to exchange information on the monsters that were out there. The best ways of killing the different kinds. How to find them, what the monsters feed on, and where the latest unclaimed 'hunts' were. The whole thing was set up like a wiki page and a message board. Everyone used aliases of course and apparently it was in a kind of code that only hunters understood. Jealously guarding their secrets from the public eye. Cas didn’t blame them and almost wanted to give them an award for keeping the whole world safe from these things. He'd heard what they found at the 'zoo' and even though one side of him was dying to know what all the monsters were and looked like, he was grateful that they were dead and no longer hurting people.

   Balthazar was suddenly there behind him and Castiel startled at his voice, “Yeah, you remember, Cassie. Those two hunters that we found when the mother dragon was found. They were posing as FBI agents outside of Freedersville just before the shit hit the fan. Never did find out what happened to them. They just disappeared.” Balthazar shrugged.

   Castiel tried very hard to remember the names of those two hunters. He recalled back in the day, hoping that they were safe and wanting to talk to them about what all they'd seen.

   Meg pipped up, “There were hunters out there? Looking for them?”

   Balthazar looked at her with distrust but said, “Yes. Cassie and I were trying to track them down to ask them all about the big bad in the woods. You thought one of them was cute.” Balthazar nudged Castiel in the side. “Had those stars in your eyes when I showed you his mug shot.” he chuckled and said, “Were you always into the bad boys?”

   Meg's eyes went wide. “You _what_?”

   “What do you mean? Isn't that why you left me? You found out I was bisexual?”

   Meg mutely shook her head. Dumbstruck.

   The room went quiet. Castiel trying to process this. “Wait, wait... then why did you leave?”

   “You thought I had left because you're _gay_? You really think I'm that shallow? I don't _care_ if you're gay.”

   “Bisexual.” Balthazar corrected. “ _I'm_ gay, and you're straight. These are the most common ones here, Darling. But if you'd like me to educate you on the whole rainbow of possibilities in sexuality, then I have a class starting Monday.”

   “Balth, please.” Castiel said, holding up a hand. Now's not the time. “Meg. Why _did_ you leave?”

   She squirmed in her seat and said, “I'm sorry. I did love you. Still do, although the cuffs could be considered kinky at this point if you felt the same way.” She winked but it fell on a hard face. “I may love you, but I fell out of love with you. I couldn't see us together in the future. I always felt like I was second in your mind. Your research coming first. I felt like you were just waiting for me to leave so you could play around with your scientist buddies. I left before you forgot about me.”

   “We could have talked about it.”

   “And said what exactly? What we're saying now? It would never end. You have to dissect everything I say. Pick it apart.”

   “Because that's who I am! I have to find out the truth. You tell me now that you left me because you don't love me? Then I accept it. I don't _like it_. I don't _understand it_ , but if you don't want to talk about it, it's not like I can force you.” he glanced to the window where an armed guard was patrolling the area. A wry smile snuck out from his mask, “I suppose I _could_. But I would never do that.” He sighed and pulled over a chair to sit in front of her. “I just... needed a reason for you leaving. Not knowing was worse then hearing that you just didn't love me anymore.”

   “But that's the thing. I didn't hate you. I just... dammit. I hate having to talk about my damned feelings like this. You're not even giving me a way out.” she gestured to the door.

   “Stop running from your problems. Grow up.” Castiel snapped.

   She gaped at him and fell silent again. After nearly a minute she nodded. “Ok. Yeah.. that's what I do. That's exactly what I do. Hit the nail on the head with that one didn't ya?”

   Now Castiel squirmed a little. Balthazar was debating if his presence was still wanted and just a look from Castiel screamed 'yes' so he made himself comfortable as the mediator in this. He cleared his throat, “Meg. You and I may not have been the bestest of buddies, but I must say, that I understand a little what you're going through. From what Cassie has told me, you've been in several bad relationships before, yes?”

   She nodded a little and shrugged.

   “So in the back of your mind, you expected Cassie to be just another bad match. Not the whole time, but your experiences pointed to a bad ending and rather then talk about it or deal with it, it was just easier to run from it.” Another nod and she wiped her tears away again. Castiel watched quietly. “You thought it would be easier for him if you'd left him all at once instead of a little at a time. Drawing out the process.” He didn't have to see to know she was nodding. “From what I gather. The pattern continued. With our mutual friend.” he pointed out Dean beyond the interior window who was watching the office like a really big hawk. “We got the reports saying that you were the one that befriended him, and over time came to care about him enough to overthrow your employer, a very very dangerous man, to save his life.”

   She sniffled a little, “Yeah. I couldn't let him suffer any more. I would have acted sooner but I was scared for my life, his life. All of them. My co-workers didn't see the creatures as anything more then dumb animals. Most of them are, but the ones that are more human... I couldn't live with myself, lie to myself that it's just a job, they are better off in a zoo then killed by hunters, or, out killing people. As much as Azazel is an asshole, he _was_ doing some good. He claimed to be a hunter and that zoo was for educational purposes. To learn everything about the monsters that other hunters went after. A good portion of the information in the hunters network came from his damned zoo. His partner, Nick something, would take what Azazel learned and would tell the other hunters the best and most efficient way of killing the dangerous wild monsters.”

   Castiel and Balthazar shared a look. They honestly didn’t consider that. They were still fairly new to the 'monsters really are actually real and there was a war going on this whole time under their noses. “What could be learned from torturing a dragon?”

   “Isn't it obvious?” she asked and said, “He's the first one that Azazel could get to. The mother was safely in the government's hands, but the baby was still out there. Someone kidnapped it and he had to go find it and bring it in. For everyone's safety.”

   “But Dean isn't dangerous.”

   “Dean... _was_.” she affirmed. “Before I started working there, the other handlers told me that he was brought in in a semi and when he was taken out, he tried to escape and injured several of the hunters there. He got loose and ran for the exit but the others were too fast. He took a detour and let loose vampires to attack everyone that was chasing him.”

   Twin gasps were heard and she looked up again. “He let loose known killers because he didn't want to get caught.” She looked pointedly at Dean, “When he saw that the front gate was impassable, he turned on the vampires and then started killing them. Stomping them into the dirt like they were insects. Punishing them for failing to kill everyone there.”

   Castiel's voice came out quietly, “how many died?”

   “None. At least, no humans died. He killed 4 of the 6 vampires. The hunters got the rest.”

   Balthazar rubbed a hand down his face, “Wait. Why on earth would he kill the vampires? Shouldn't he have just let them kill the hunters? Joined in the killing himself if he really was all that evil?”

   “I don't know. All I know is what I was told.”

   “By Azazel or by the handlers.”

   Meg squinted suspiciously and nodded. “He might have lied. Gotten the handlers to tell everyone that Dean was truly heartless.”

   “Ya think?” Balth spat out.

   “Look Johnny English, I only know what I've been told and what I see with my own eyes. Dean was not the cuddly kitten that you have in that cage over there. He was impulsive, temperamental, unpredictable and just plain mean.”

   “Wouldn't you be all those if you were held captive?”

   “He changed alright? He and I would talk whenever I went to feed him and I grew to like the big scaly bastard. Alistair's training was working and Dean became more docile. He liked me well enough but had fights with others. He didn't like the other handlers, creatures, his master or trainer. Azazel tortured out his stubbornness and made him into a perfect pet. They broke him. I couldn’t take it anymore. I could see him loosing himself day after day. Something they were doing to him was taking away his personality. He mentioned he was loosing memories but he wouldn’t tell me what all he did remember so I couldn’t tell him what he was forgetting. I couldn’t be his memory holder.” She sniffled again and wiped her face with a tissue Balthazar handed her. She nodded her thanks and blew her nose. Castiel no longer felt the need to have her cuffed but he still didn’t trust her completely. She was after his friend after all.

   “I made up my mind when he said, 'I'm a good boy.'” another sniffle. “Just like that, all simple. Like a pet. Pathetic. Desperate. He thought his worth was solely what Azazel said it was. I went straight to the nearest military base I could find online and told them everything. I needed someone with more man-power then Azazel and his hunters on payroll. After a couple of days, they told me when the raid would be and to make myself scarce. I wanted to join in but I also didn’t want to see what they were going to do with the other monsters. They told me they were only planning on keeping Dean. I told myself that it was for the best that the other monsters were finally going to be at peace. It's not like you can just release them into the wild again. That would be monumentally stupid. Most of them were just dying for the chance to kill again. Some were harmless and I tried to convince the General to let them go free but he told me that it was either all or none. I found out that the government was in league with some hunters and they'd already gathered what information they could from the other zoo monsters. They had no need to keep them alive. Just Dean. Because they wanted a male for their female dragon. A set. They wanted to learn all they could from him so that they'd know how to kill other dragons should they find more.”

   “We already know all this.” Castiel cut in. “We know. We read the reports. They killed the monsters and burned and buried them. Dean was taken to the facility and they skinned him, tested on him, beat his teeth out with fucking metal bats and left him to die in a burning building.” he ground out, standing up again and leaning over her. “You took him from one torture table and threw him onto another.”

   She shook her head slowly, mouth aghast. “I thought... I thought they were going to _help_ him.”

   “You thought wrong.” he went to stand next to the door, looking out at Dean. Dean was standing, clearly anxious and staring at the office, he lifted up a huge hand and waved meekly. Castiel's heart went out to him and he waved back. Dean seemed to breath a little easier and sat down again. Still watching. Castiel was grateful that Dean couldn't hear what was said behind inside the office. “Michael, my boss, was able to buy Dean from the General and bring him here. We planned on testing him but since he was so... _damaged,_ we had to wait several days before he'd even look at anyone with something other then fear or hatred.” Castiel sighed, hating the look Dean had in his eyes. Every bad emotion you could think of, alternating from one to the other. “And yet,” he started, looking to Balthazar and then Meg, “he seems to like me. I don't know why. Maybe he was trying to get in good with the 'boss', so I wouldn't beat him for disobeying or some such. I admit that once I got to really spend time with him. I got to liking him too. He is not the animal he'd been treated as for so long. He just _looks_ dangerous. I can tell all he wants is a friend. Someone that he doesn’t have to do a trick for to make them like him. He did anyways, he was trained to think his only worth was how well he obeyed.”

   “And how sad is that?” Balthazar added.

   Castiel was uncomfortable talking about his and Dean's relationship so he went to the door and shut it again, giving an encouraging smile to Dean before doing so so Dean wouldn’t think he was being shut out. Even though he was. “Meg. You said that Azazel is after your brother.”

   She nodded, “He said if I don't hand over Dean, my brother is as good as dead.”

   “As good as. So, does that mean, not _dead_ dead?”

   She squinted at him. “Generally that means DEAD dead. What else could it mean?”

   “He had access to things that can turn humans into monsters. Maybe he planned on doing that with your brother.” Balthazar realized. “Maybe he's trying to build up his zoo again.”

   “What?!” Meg nearly screamed. “No! Nonononno he can't!” she jumped up and went for the door, only to be stopped by both men. “Let me go! I know what he's planning on doing!”

   “What? Just tell us what you know, Meg!” Castiel insisted, knowing that she's hiding something from them.

   “Azazel knows how to get a dragon! He was planning on using my brother to get one from the General!”

   “Hold on. HOW? How do you 'get' a dragon?”

   She wrested her arms from their hold and went to pace the far wall, clearly debating how to tell them what she knows, but also knowing that once they know, there is no way in hell they'd hand Dean over to her. Her conscious won out in the end. “It's the mother, Eve. Azazel needs to get to Eve and hand over my brother to her.”

   “What like a human sacrifice? This some kind of witchy thing?”

   “What? _No._ Don't be stupid.” her eyebrows furrowed. “Eve needs to eat a human.” They both grimaced at that but she kept on going. “Whatever she eats, whole and still alive, will come out as a brand new baby dragon.”

   Clearly they weren't quick on this uptake.

   “Dean was once a human.” she jabbed her cuffed hands out towards Dean's cage.

   Crickets were louder then they were in that room.

   “What?” Balthazar spoke up first. And second, “ _What_?” shaking his head in utter disbelief.

   “Eve attacked and swallowed dear old Dean in there when he was in the woods hunting her down.”

   “Ok, so now you're telling us that Dean was a hunter?” and after he got the nod, “And that he was a human?”

   “Yes. Generally monster hunters are human.” She waited for them to catch up. “Eve got to him before he could get to her and she ate him. I don't know when exactly, but soon after we hear of a baby dragon being smuggled out of those woods by some unknown people. They go into hiding until Azazel finds him and brings him to the zoo. You both know the rest.”

   “Wait wait wait... how the hell do you know that he was a human?” Balthazar asked. Castiel was still silent.

   “He told me.”

   “He told you.”

   “Yeah, Sugar, he told me. What, he didn't tell you?”

   “No! Of course he didn't tell us! I think that would have been the first thing to cross his mind would be to tell us!”

   “Why?” she demanded. “Look at it from his point of view. He tells you he was human, you try and find out where he came from, how he got to be a dragon, then everyone and their uncle will be after his mother to make more dragons. He's trying to protect his mother! She is the real key here. Dean told me that he and Eve were not supposed to be mates, Eve was going to make him his own mate and they were supposed to run off together and live long happy dragon lives together in the mountains.”

   “Cassie, you don't believe this do you?” he turned to his friend who had yet to say a word after the revelation. “Castiel?” he prompted again.

   “Dean... was human?”

   Meg was about to be sarcastic but saw the look in his eyes. “Yeah. He was.”

   “What was his name? His real name?”

   “Umm... he told me once. Let me think...” she said, walking to the window and looking out. “Chester something... Winchester. Same first name. And he had a brother.”

   “Sam.” said so softly it could have been mistaken for an exhale. 

   Meg cocked her head. “Yeah, that's right. Sam and Dean Winchester.”

   “Hunters.” he looked up at her again.

   “Yeah, they were both hunters. Sam got away but Dean was caught.” she said, and suddenly realized something, “Sam was the one that took him back!” both men shot looks at her. “When Dean was still a baby dragon, Sam must have found him again and stole him back, took him home again until Azazel found them and kidnapped Dean from Sam!”

   “Did he uh, did Dean ever say what Sam looked like?” Balthazar asked, never taking his eyes off Castiel.

   Castiel mouthed the words as Meg spoke them. “Tall with long brown hair.”

   “Son of a bitch.” Castiel said and then faced his friend, “Balth, didn't you say those FBI agents in Freedersville were really Sam and Dean?”

  “Yeah, and you thought the shorter one was hot.” Balthazar looked to the office door. “That _Dean_ was hot.”

   “You got to be kidding me.” Meg finally said. “You had the hots for a dragon?”

   “He! He wasn't a dragon at the time!” Castiel sputtered out. “All I saw was a few pictures online! I just wanted to ask him -”

   “Out?” Balthazar chuckled.

   “ASK HIM about what he _FOUND_.” Castiel shouted. Face flushing.

   Meg chuckled now, “Well, you can ask him now, but I'm pretty sure the answer is obvious.”

   “Fuck you, Meg.” Castiel shot at her and went to the liquor cabinet. “Balth. Where the hell did you put the stuff?”

   “What stuff?”

   “The stuff I use to calm the fuck down. I can't go out there looking at a fuckin' dragon and seeing a human trapped in that cage after he'd been tortured and abused and WHERE THE HELL IS IT BALTH?!”

   Balthazar snapped to attention and went to the cabinet, digging around and pulling out a bottle of pills, holding it out of Castiel's reach until he let his arms fall impatiently to his sides as Balthazar pulled out three pills and handed them over. “Not with alcohol Cassie.”

   “Don't call me Cassie!” he said and dry swallowed the pills. One got stuck in his throat and he started coughing until Meg handed over his cold coffee from the desk. He nodded a quick thanks and downed the rest of the bitter drink. Once he got his breathing under control he glared at everyone in the room.

   “Better?”

   “Give me a goddamned minute.” He spat and paced a little. Forcing himself to sit down and jerkily twiddle his thumbs.

   After another moment passed, Balthazar and Meg just looked at each other. “So, hows life, Darling?” he asked her, arms folding.

   “Good, good, brother's still missing, presumed monster. But other then that...” she said casually. “You?”

   “Same.” he looked to Castiel who was calming down and huffed a laugh at the stupid joke. “Less monster now looks like.”

   “Shut up, Balth.” a small grin on his lips.

   “Oh! And he's back.” Balthazar clapped a hand to Castiel's shoulder. “So. What's the plan boss man?”

   “Plan? What plan. I only just found out that I'm keeping a formerly human monster hunter in a cage. The original plan for the day was to teach Dean how to read and write.” He laughed humorlessly. “Does he know now that he was once human?”

   “Who knows. He used to know at least, enough to tell me about his 'past life'.” Meg shrugged. “Alistair must have made him forget somehow.”

   “Then we gotta help him remember again.” Castiel said.

   “Would that actually help anything?” Balthazar chimed in. “We tell him he was human, that it's wrong to keep him in a cage, what do you think he's gonna do?”

   “Try and break out, find his brother.”

   “Exactly. And how the hell do you think Michael will handle that?”

   Castiel thought about it and said, “Not ideally.” he sighed heavily. “and, if he gets loose, he will no doubt cause a panic. People see a dragon walking around town, and there will be blood. Either his or theirs or both. If he's not killed, he will be just taken into another facility like this one. Tortured again. Dissected.” his eyes cast downward again.”

   “At least we know more now.” Balthazar offered. “Maybe we can figure out what to do.”

   “Well, get him out of here for one. Somewhere where he will be safe from people.”

   “He wont leave without his mother.” Meg said. “All he talked about was her and his little brother Sam. He also had someone else that was close to him, he called him his dad friend. Whether that means his dad's friend, or his friend that is a dad or what.”

   “Must be talking about Bobby.” Castiel said aloud and Balthazar nodded.

   “Bobby? How did you know about Bobby?”

   “Dean wrote it down yesterday. He also wrote down Sam's name and his own in the concrete. It was the first real proof that we had that he was far more intelligent then we thought. I suppose now it shouldn’t be surprising. Seeing as how he was once a famous hunter.” Castiel looked to Meg who wasn’t following, “We found all kinds of reports on Sam and Dean, many were saying on the hunters network that they were responsible for turning the tide in the monster war years ago. Right after their father died. Went on a monster killing spree that lasted a long time. Apparently they were the best hunters around. Well respected.”

   “Any news on what happened to Sam after Dean was caught by Azazel?” Meg asked Castiel.

   “I haven't found anything. Either he's not hunting monsters, or he's dead. The hunters network said he was in mourning over the loss of his brother during that dragon hunt. Of course only a handful of people knows about the dragons, the rest think it was just a random monster. Sending condolences.” he shrugged. “If I were him though, I would do everything in my powers to get my brother back.” He looked to Meg and understood a little more what she was going through right now. “We're gonna help you get your brother back too. And I think I know the best way how.”

   Meg leaned forward in her chair, eager to have an old ally in this. “anything, i'll do anything.”

   “That's good, because you're the only one that _can_ do this.”

 

   Dean was worried. Cas and Balth and Meg were all in that office together and there was yelling and stomping and banging going on. He didn't know who was gonna walk out of there alive at the end of it all. He hoped Cas would make it at least. Meg betrayed him before once, she might do it again. Balth... was an ok guy but not one of Dean's biggest favorites. But Cas... something told him he could trust Cas. He doesn't lie to him. Always looked out for him and was the first to treat him with respect here. Dean started to feel a nice warmth inside him whenever he saw the guy with the nice blue eyes look at him. Yeah, Cas was awesome. Dean waited somewhat patiently for them to come out of the office but it looked like they were discussing something in there. He heard his name once or twice but didn't hear the context or rest of the sentences. He did hear his Cas shout the words, “Ask him what he found,” And then a few seconds later, “Where the hell is it Balth?”

   Dean had no idea what that was all about and hoped that someone would please just tell him what's going on. Did he do something wrong? How can he fix it if he doesn't know what he did? His breakfast was finally served, cooked medium and put inside his food dish behind and to his right. He flicked a side fan in that direction, listening to the two women shut the small door again and lock it. He could force the puny lock but there's no point, he couldn't fit out of that little hole anymore then his head to his horns. A few more feet out if he angled it upwards to look at the ceiling unobstructed by bars. But again, what's the point?

   Dean waited another minute, staring at the office before the delicious scents coming from his food dish beckoned him over. He took the few steps on over and started to eat quickly, keeping his attention tuned to the door for the first sign of movement or voice loud enough for him to hear clearly.

   He finished his meal and licked the bowl clean. The cage cleaners never really have a chance at getting to it before he just does it himself. His straw was replaced and he asked Hannah for some tree limbs to add to his nest. At first she was hesitant but seeing the look in Dean's eyes told her that he just wanted to make a more comfortable nest with some structure. She agreed and a few people brought in some two by fours. Not really what Dean had in mind but he was grateful all the same, and started to weave the nest with the lumber forming a nice base wall. He tested it out and purred for a few minutes, feeling more at home. The office quieted down and he found himself dozing. Dreaming of Cas and his nice scent, his nice smile, that ridiculous tan coat, and his blue eyes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Deanzilla" is from another favorite fanfic of mine that you simply must go read. I don't know if it is elsewhere online but it's titled, Deanzilla vs Hydros. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4817332/1/Deanzilla-vs-Hydros by nej47 - there is a sequel that is also amazing, Measure of a man.   
> Kinda really wish they put this story on ao3 because i think more people should get to read it.


	15. Far away I heard him say, 'Come with me now'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean *finally* gets some pie.  
> Castiel and Balthazar get to talk to the real Dean beneath the scales.  
> Oh, and Sam and Dean reunite. No biggie. ;)

Chapter 15

Far away I heard him say, 'Come with me now'

 

 

   “Cassie, you sure about all this?”

   “No.”

   “Well you've got my vote.” Balthazar smirked and helped escort Meg out of the office. She went over to Dean after they both exchanged a few looks and figured that the best way to convince her to help them all out with this risky plan would be to have her see the one she'll be saving again.

   “Dean.” Meg said with a mix of happiness and wariness. “I'm going to be taking off here in a minute.”

   'typical.' He grumbled and watched as she cautiously walked closer to his cage. He could smell the change in her demeanor. Finally understanding that she had never gotten this close without having some kind of weapon on her for defense. He'd gotten kinda used to being trusted by Cas and Balth that it took him a moment to realize that not everyone trusted him, even if they liked him.

   She took a breath and bravely walked through the bars. He wanted to back up but stayed put. His mind raced with everything he could be doing right now. What _she_ could be doing. He kept keeping tabs of her scent and mood as she took another step closer, one arm slowly raising with its palm side up. She appeared to be wanting him to sniff her hand. He snorted at that. He could smell everything about her from half a warehouse away. The ventilation in this place helped him detect just about everyone in the huge warehouse and their ever changing and varying mood swings.

   He looked up to Cas to see if she should really be doing this right now. If they were offering her up as a sacrifice, or a gift or what. Maybe they were wanting her dead and that's why she was sent to him. He didn't want to kill her now. Sure he was angry before, but who wouldn't be? She was a traitor. She got all those other things killed at the zoo by ratting them out to the government. His understanding of 'government' was provisional at best. Mostly it held implications of war and order. He knew it was a bad thing to be under their attention. A feeling that they weren’t to be trusted but if he wanted to hide in plain sight while getting answers from bipeds, was to dress like them. Pretend to be the men in suits. Ties were a pain in the ass. And then there were always those business cards and badges he had to make sure were in the right pockets. Not to mention that his gun and silver knives needed to be hidden as well. Stupid form fitting suits. Never enough room in them to breath or move around in.

   That thought came out of nowhere. Since when does he wear cloths?

   'Son of a bitch!' he yelped, startled when he felt Meg's hand suddenly there on his forearm. He jumped back quickly and she jumped back just as fast.

   “Whoa there big guy! They told me you space out every once in awhile. I thought they were joking!”

   He regained a modicum of composure and snorted angrily at her. 'You're just like a rat, always sneaking around.' He grumbled. Eying her suspiciously as if she were going to bite him. How the hell did she manage to sneak up on him? He keeps loosing time. A few seconds here, a minute there. And his friends always calling to him as if he left or fell asleep. He never remembers doing so, just the sensation of coming back.

   “I'm leaving now, Dean. Was there... is there anything you wanted to say?”

   He shook his head once firmly. He told himself back at the government facility that he would not say one more thing to her. He meant it. Dean scented the air and knew all about her feelings of disappointment and resignation. That was swept away by determination. What the hell?

   “It's ok Dean. Even if you hate me till the day I die, I will redeem myself in your eyes. I'm gonna help you.” she then turned heel, her long black curly hair bouncing behind her again as she strolled right out of his cage again.

   He took a step forward but aborted the next. He wasn't gonna chase after her. He'll believe it when he sees it.

   Once she was gone and out of the building, Cas and Balth came back over. Talking quietly amongst themselves and stopping when it looked like Dean could hear them. They gave a few looks back and forth and then up to Dean.

   'whats going on?' He signed slowly.

   “Balth and I were talking. We think we would like to talk to you.”

   Dean puzzled at that. 'you are.'

   “There's uh, there's this test that we'd like to do. It's painless. All we need is for you to pay close attention to what Balth will be saying.”

   Dean considered it and nodded, giving a thumbs up.

   “Ok, we just have to get set up for it. Wont take too long. In the meantime, why don't you practice signing with Hannah some more. She's got a few simple words you can say without having to spell them out.”

   Dean looked skeptically and before he could sign anything Cas cut him off, “Just try out the words. I know you like to spell everything but this would make conversing even faster. Once you learn what you want to learn I will learn them as well. It's up to you which words you want to use. She's picked out the ones where you only need one hand to do the motions. I noticed that you favor your right hand so she's skimmed through the ASL to find the best ones.” He grinned and waved Hannah over. She too grinned widely at Dean and pulled out a few sheets of paper with huge pictures on them to show him.

   Dean resigned himself to being the student and let her teach him some words using the flashcards.

   “Ok, Balth. Your idea? It better work. He's already had his mind messed with by those bastards, Azazel and Alistair. He mentioned a 'white fog' that comes up whenever he's trying to remember things that happened in his past. No doubt those two knew that he was once a human and were trying to eliminate all memories of that life. Every time something peeks through the fog, he gets obviously dizzy and sometimes passes out. A kind of 'reset' button on his mind.”

   “Absolutely. All we need to do is to remove the blocks they put in place. The best way I know to do that is through hypnosis.”

   “So you say. But that sounds like some bad sci-fi cliché.”

   “It's not! Our friend Wes was hypnotized into quitting smoking! Brandon is the one that recommended it for several of our contacts to remember alien abductions they were witnesses to. It worked nine times out of ten! I'm telling you, Alistair probably used it to put what Dean calls the 'white fog' in his head in the first place. So obviously we need hypnosis to dissipate it!” he said while searching websites for the right methods of doing it. “If it doesn't work, no harm done.”

   Cas frowned at him. In the end after several minutes of just watching Balth do internet searches he left to learn more signs with Dean. An hour or so passed and now Dean could sign a few more simple words amid his spellings. Cas himself was getting faster at reading Dean's huge fingers as they moved with increasing agility. It was a little unnerving to see a hand that huge moving that fast with all those sharp black claws at the ends. Each one capable of killing just by poking a persons chest with barely any pressure. He absently rubbed a hand along his shirt and remembered when Dean held him in that hand like he was nothing more then a talking doll or small pet. He knew logically that Dean didn't see him that way but really, how could he _not_? If Dean were human sized right now, Cas would be slightly smaller then a ken doll. The movie with the sentient toys came immediately to mind and he shuddered to think of the day when Dean doesn't see them as humans anymore.

   Balthazar texted him, odd, why didn't he just open the door and shout? Something's up. Cas excused himself to the lab side of the warehouse where several of his employees were actually sleeping because they hadn't gotten any new samples to study since Dean gave them that liquid flame days ago. Cas made a mental note to collect something else for them to work on so the are at least being a little productive.

   Cas read Balthazar's text, expecting it to be some kind of super secret code worded message. 'bring me some pie.'

   “Idiot.” he said and texted just that.

   'not for me, for dean. i found out that when he was human he loved pie. so go get some.'

   'You get it. I have work to do here.'

   'fine. lend me your truck?'

   'Keys are next to you. And bring enough pie for Dean's appetite. 12 boxes enough? Take money out of the safe.'

   'mikie wont notice?'

   'Doubt it. Speaking of, I should ask him if he knows Dean was human.'

   'be careful how you ask. He might not take it well.'

   'Ok.' Cas texted, wondering why the hell he was still texting when Balth was just across the building. He sighed and walked the distance to his office. “I'll ask Michael about Dean's former humanity before he gets here so if he has any qualms, we wont be there next to him for the fallout.”

   “Good idea.” Balthazar said and pocketed the money. “What kind of pie do you think he likes? What kinds did Meg mention?”

   “Don't know. Get a variety. If he doesn't like any of them, we'll just send them home with whomever decided to show up for the day.” he looked out to the few lab technicians and scientists, somewhat grateful that he and Balth wont have to clear out more then 6 for the hypnosis test. He wasn't sure yet if he wanted his team to know about Dean's former life. It wasn't his secret to tell that Dean was once a monster hunter that was also, supposedly, a serial killer that was already gunned down and buried years ago. Cas now suspected that the 'people' that he killed were actually monsters in disguise. In that case he's a hero instead of a villain. Doing the tough, deadly job and not getting paid or even thanked for it.

   He and Balth were easily able to bring up their research on the brothers from months ago thanks to a coded email from Brandon and Wes. Balthazar mentioned that he owed them big time for all this help. The two of them were the only ones besides Meg, Cas and Balthazar that knew of Dean's humanity and wanting to bring him back to the human race. Besides of course for Dean's brother and his friend Bobby, who must think him dead by now. He hoped that they were still searching for Dean while he and Balth were searching them out as well. If nothing else, but to reassure Dean that his family is still alive and well. Cas still had no idea what to do with the dragon. So, hopefully, this hypnosis session will allow them to get some answers to their questions. Let _Dean_ decide.

   From what Castiel understands, is that there should be a limited number of people in the room so the person doesn't get confused if more then one person is heard. Fewer people the better. They also did not want the others to know that Dean was once human because they might treat him differently. At the moment there's a truce between his people and the dragon. They leave each other alone for the most part and if they have to interact it's usually through Cas and or Balth. Mediators.

   Balth jingled the keys and Cas bid him adieu before going back to Dean and asking for a sample or two. Two lab techs were there suggesting this and that and for the most part Dean didn't give a rats ass once he was reassured that the sample removal wont hurt whatsoever, and he would be the one to take them. Once he heard that, his attitude took a near 180 as he bit his own finger to draw a little bit of blood. Even though Cas said that the needles would have hurt less, he did not like them. He bled into a mixing bowl just a few drops for him but nearly a pint worth and the scientists couldn't be happier. He suckled his finger for a few minutes while Cas was trying to ask for what else he was willing to give up.

   'ear wax'. Dean signed to Cas's confusion. He shrugged and signed, 'other guys wanted it.' he then stuck a different finger inside his side fan ear and wiggled it around a little. His eyes and tongue flickering around until it came back out with nearly a football sized wad of gray wax inside the curve of the claw. He shrugged his wings and stuck it out in Cas's face.

   Cas grimaced a little at the sudden overpowering smell but held out a white sanitized cloth to gather up the sample and gave it to his assistant as if it were a severed head. The assistant held it out in front of himself at a distance. Wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with _ear wax_. He'd do some random tests on it out of sheer boredom. Secretly envious of the blood sample everyone else got to play with.

   Dean liked the way Cas was pleased with how well he was behaving and decided that his scales had enough time to heal so he looked around for the perfect one to give to his best friend. Dean thought about which one he could live without and immediately thought of the one that was hiding the tracking chip. It was at such an odd angle, being right between his four shoulder blades and at the base of his neck, he couldn't really get a good grip on it with his teeth or wing thumbs. Finally he signed to Cas, 'take the spike off.'

   “What? No! Dean that's too dangerous! When Alistair put it in there, he could have crippled you. Do you know what that means?”

   Dean squinted at him, trying to remember, Cas helped, “It means that if he cut something he shouldn't have, you wouldn't be able to walk right. Your front legs and maybe even your wings would be paralyzed. Um, you wouldn't be able to move them.”

   'ever?'

   “Ever. If we do surgery on that spike, _we_ could be the ones that cripple you. We don't have enough information on your biology yet.”

   Dean fretted a little. He then signed, 'take inside pics.'

   “What do you mean?”

   Dean scrunched up his eyebrows trying to describe that thing that the General used on him at the military base. They knew what he looked inside his body without cutting him open. 'ex ray?'

   “Oh! You mean we should use an x-ray on it?” Dean nodded and turned to bit at the spike again, he knew if he could just pull it off everything would be better. “Dean! I told you to stop! I don't want you hurting yourself. And we do have an x-ray but it's busted at the moment. It broke in transit over here. Otherwise we would have taken all of your scans already. The General took some didn't he?” Dean nodded again. “Well, he didn't send us any copies. Or maybe they were burned in the fire.” Cas rubbed at his neck. Dean looked ashamed and Cas hated that look on him. “Listen. It's ok. I know why you set the fire. If I were in your shoes I might have done the same. You saw them as the enemy and acted.”

   There was a pregnant pause before Cas asked a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to. “Do you see me as the enemy?”

   That caught Dean off guard and he had to think about it for a few minutes. 'not you. Michael.'

   Cas wasn't about to drop this, needing to know what Dean really thought. “But I work for him. Shouldn't that make me the enemy?”

   'you are nice.' He signed as if that made everything better. Dean saw that he needed to explain further, 'you ask, they dont. you talk to me, they dont. you like me....' Dean hesitated for a second, unsure if that was true or not now that the words were out there. 'right?' He signed it as if it were a small voice.

   Cas had to wipe his eye at that. “Yes, Dean. I like you.” which had the effect of bringing the most sincere smile onto the dragon's face he'd yet to see.

   'i like you to.' he signed happily and head bumped the bars between them.

   Cas's heart warmed and he stepped through the bars and held his arms out wide. Dean backed his head up a little, wondering why the dominance display, but Cas kept on approaching with a smile. “Don't leave me hanging.” Cas chuckled with his hands waving him closer and Dean finally got it. He reached out slowly with his hand and gathered up Cas in it, Cas walking forward at Dean's gentle guiding tug until Cas was hugging Dean's lowered chest. Dean sniffled a little and hugged a bit tighter until he felt Cas struggle slightly. Releasing him immediately and checking the biped for injury. Cursing himself out for hurting him.

   “I'm fine! Fine!” he said and patted Dean's retreating hand. “I trust you.”

   If it were even possible, Dean's grin got wider, forgetting himself and showing some teeth. Dean ducked back and acted as if he was hiding a blush. “You just need to practice on lifting people up. You can practice with me I guess.” he suggested. Since it would be a good hour before Balth came back, Cas insisted that Dean use him as a training dummy. A real dummy couldn't let them know when vertigo would set in or how much pressure to use. “Let me just tell the guards not to worry about this.”

   Dean watched him go to the armed bipeds and they looked over at Dean and apparently were ok with it. How far they've come. Trusting a monster with their boss's life. He felt all warm and fuzzy inside with the fact that even people trained to kill him were treating him with respect and trust. Granted, he was still in a cage, but he'd gotten used to that a long time ago. He'd love to see the sun again, but those kinds of wishes and thoughts only make him sad so he tries to focus on all the good things he's got going on right now.

   “Ok! All set!” Cas announced as he came back and then spent a few minutes instructing Dean what to do and when to do it. Taking everything extremely slow so Cas doesn't get motion sickness and Dean doesn't freak out and hurt him on accident. Even one slight miscalculation or movement could injure or even kill Cas. It made Dean's stomach churn a little but his heart beat harder with hopeful anticipation. Touch is the one thing that nearly every single living being craves, but he was denied for so long. Companionship. Respect. Love. All things whose meaning lost clarity. Like a notion instead of a real tangible thing he could enjoy.

   Dean flexed his hand a few times, readying himself for the task and unlike the other times, this one wasn't a knee jerk reaction of moving Cas from point A to B to show him something. He saw Cas stand in front of him, arms out and Dean reached forward and slowly reached forward so his fingers and part of his palm were behind his back. Dean curled his fingers around and moved his thumb to the front as he grabbed hold of Cas's chest, with his hand being wide enough to wrap around his legs to his knees as well.

   “Ok, not too tight, you're doing good. Just remember I still need to breath!” he said and Dean was about to let go fully but Cas put his hands down on either side of the huge hand. “I didn't say let go! I just mean, don't squeeze too tight. Here, I’ll let you know when it's comfortable.” he said and pulled at Dean's forefinger and thumb that were just under his armpits.

   Dean didn't look comfortable but tightened his grip by inches, watching and waiting for the cue from Cas. When it seemed like his friend was never going to give the signal, he saw Cas pat his fingers and give the 'ok' sign. Dean froze, unsure what to do now. Thankfully, Cas had an idea.

   “That's good, now when you pick someone up, make sure that they feel secure. Don't tilt them too much forward or back or to the sides. Just uh, ok, try and tilt me back just a little and I'll see how that feels.” Dean did so, again by small amounts until Cas gave the signal to stop. “Good! Now I feel like I'm relaxing on a couch or chair. You doing good?”

   Dean thought that was a dumb question. Like Cas weighed anything at all. He could probably hold him up all day long if Cas'd let him. He gave the ok sign with his other hand while quickly leaning back on his haunches for balance. That jostled Cas when Dean's body went forward again to land back on his other hand.

   “Whoa! That was a _rush._ ” Cas chuckled, fingers gripping the two underneath him. “We aren't to the part of moving yet. You uh, don't have to try and use sign language when you're holding someone in your hand. I know you need at least one for balance. So uh, please don't do that again?”

   Dean hadn't thought of that but nodded anyway. Cas then instructed him to move him around at varying speeds for both of them to figure out what works and what doesn't. What his body and stomach could handle. It felt like a roller coaster at some times but thankfully Dean was constantly aware of Cas's heart rate and feelings. Cas then took a breath and instructed Dean to take a few steps while carrying him like he did earlier, somewhat close to his chest for balance. Dean had an idea and used his wings to help him walk around. Cas congratulated him on the ingenuity and Dean beamed at the praise.

   “Alright you majestic bastard,” Cas teased when Dean's sense of self pride made him hold Cas like a trophy. Cas wiggled a little in the confines of the scaled hand and Dean turned his attention fully on him. “I know you already know this, but people generally aren't carried around. So, when you do grab them, make sure they are comfortable. No one likes to be turned upside down, or swung out wide, or generally flipped about. You'll loose friends that way, and they might loose their lunch on you.”

   Dean grimaced but understood. He didn't want upchuck on his fingers anymore then they wanted to expel their entrails.

   “Human beings are pretty fragile when you think about it. Especially compared to your kind.”

   Dean had to agree with that, even though numerous bipeds had inflicted so much harm to him already. He had started to believe that they were invincible. He carefully set Cas down again and detected a faint wisp of scent from Cas, longing. Did he really like being held? Dean backed up a few steps to be able to look Cas in the eye, dipping his head down low enough to be more or less eye level. He lifted up his hand and signed, 'you liked it?'

   “Yes. You were a very good student!” Cas praised and saw the slightly disappointed look in Dean's eyes. But what in the world could he be upset by? That training session went perfectly. Cas didn't feel hurt or queasy at all. “Are you alright, Dean?”

   Dean bobbled his head and signed. 'i liked it.'

   “What exactly?”

   He debated whether or not to tell him, but why not? It's not like Cas ever held anything against him. 'holding you.' He was surprised by the spike of scents coming from Cas, that longing and something else, anxiety, want? What the hell? Cas is all over the spectrum!

   “Yea- yeah. Yes. I uh.. I liked it too. Being, uh, being held. By you...” he tripped over his words more then Balth trips acid. He chastised himself and willed the blush to stay the fuck off of his cheeks. “It was nice.” he admitted so silently that Dean had to flair his fans to hear him.

   Dean started to grin a little, not too much to scare Cas away from his obvious feelings, but enough to let him know that it's alright. 'wanna go again?' He signed then wiggled his fingers. Cas snickered and declined for now. He had just gotten a text from Balth letting him know that he was 5 minutes out and would need help carrying in the packages.

   Turns out that dragon Dean loves pie.

   The other thing that they found out, is that eating 4 pies makes a dragon throw up.

   The other _other_ thing that was discovered, is the fact that said dragon will go back to eating half of the other 8 untouched pies, boxes and all, regardless if that also makes him throw up even more violently 15 minutes later.

   Dean used everything he learned from earlier that day to hold a struggling, protesting Castiel safely aside as he kept on eating and moaning at the delicious, _heavenly_ taste of the remaining pies, willing himself to keep this last batch down though sheer stubbornness. Cas hovered in the air in Dean's fist, berating him on eating too much, and to 'let him down right the fuck now! Dean! Why the hell are you _still eating_? You _like_ the aftertaste of blueberry vomit?!? Balth get those damned pies away from the _**stupidest**_ dragon alive!'

   Balth's camera was filled to the brim with blackmail material. Mainly the flush on both of their faces. Dean for pie and Cas for the precarious height and ease of which he was held aside and ignored so completely.

   Once the last of the pies were nothing more then shredded cardboard and a few aluminum pans, one notably missing... poor Dean's gonna feel that one coming back up...or down... Cas was safely set back to the ground. He was released with a sheepish smile from Dean, and had to resist the urge to pull out his gun and shoot the damned monster. Knowing full well that a single .22 bullet wouldn't do much more then annoy Dean, it was still tempting. He regained his balance and straightened out his suit and trench coat. It was hopelessly wrinkled so he took it off and shoved it into Balth's chest, fumbling to catch it before it fell all the way.

   “I'll be in my office!” he fumed and slammed the door shut behind him.

   Dean chirped a little after him. Apologizing. Balth went up to him and patted Dean's nose. It felt nice, but not as nice as when Cas does it, “He's fine. He just doesn't like it when he's ignored.” Balth shrugged and fist bumped the end of Dean's nose. “Just do us all a favor. Don't throw up the rest of them? At least try, I mean... he doesn't like to see you in any kind of pain either. Why did you feel the need to keep going? Did you know you'd throw up if you ate too much?”

   Dean nodded honestly. “Then why'd you do it?”

   That's a good question. 'missed it.' He signed and then nosed around the cardboard, looking for more even though it was obvious that the remains couldn't possibly hide so much as another bite. He huffed at the empty boxes and burped loudly, earning him a few claps from the white coats in the corner and even a cheerful whistle from a guard. He bowed his head and went about covering up his sick with some straw and shoved it outside of his cage for the cleaners to take care of. He briefly wondered if they wanted to test that stuff too. Those little white coats were weird.

   Balth said he'd calm Cas down and that afterwords, they were going to do a simple test. Cas told him about it earlier. He wanted to make Cas happy again and not mad at him for disobeying numerous orders. He drank a lot of water to help with the pie overload and laid down. Hoping that his stomach would keep it down. He aimed his whole body towards the office so Cas would see he was willing to pay attention to him now.

   “So Cassie. Dean just told me why he ate them even after knowing he'd throw them up. He said he 'missed it'. Meaning he remembers pie and missed it. No way in heaven or hell would Azazel feed him pie and I can't see anyone giving him some while he was in that body. I think with that, and all the other hints and clues we've seen, proves that what Meg was saying is true. The puppet was a real boy.” Balth quipped while looking out of the window to Dean who was easing himself onto the ground to rest his stomach. “Cassie?” he asked when he got no retort back.

   “I...” Cas paused and held out his phone for Balthazar to read. “I asked him in a text what he thinks about the theory that we have, that Dean was once a human. I told him a bit of what Meg told us. And well, you can read what he said back.” He said and once the phone was handed over, Cas turned away from it in disgust.

   Balth put a hand to his mouth. He felt sick. It usually takes a lot to surprise and repel him but Michael managed to do both in one sentence. 'I knew he was a human, it doesn't change anything.' To add another kick to his stomach, he read further down, 'I expect the rest of the biological tests by the end of the week. Brain tissue, bone marrow removal from each bone, and remove his fourth finger on his left hand. The General said there was a ring of metal deep inside the bone. I want it.' The rest of the text went unread as Balth tossed the cell across the room almost hard enough to break it. The bone marrow testing alone would be excruciating. Huge needles, no, _electric drills_ would be needed to bore into his super thick bones and then extract the still living marrow inside. It was true that bone marrow testing would yield more accurate results, but to do that for _each and every one_? That would mean hundreds of holes drilled into his body. All trust shattered. Faith in them, _gone_. And brain tissue? Seriously? They'd need the x-ray machine and an ultrasound going simultaneously to cut open his skull and _hope_ that they don't cut too deep to give him permanent brain damage. Who the hell knows what cutting into him would do? It was dangerous to do on humans, and doctors knew what human skulls _looked_ like! How much pressure to use, how deep to go, what the brain can withstand, what lobes are used for what. Where the major and minor arteries lead. There was no way on God's green earth that they'd know what part of Dean's brain was safe to look at, safe to cut into, safe to _remove_. Maybe parts from all of it, maybe none of it. Maybe even the act of opening it up to the air would be enough to kill him.

   All of these thoughts filled their minds and they found themselves staring at the blasted cell phone in the corner, peeking out from under a file cabinet like a rat. Their boss gave them an order. They have one week to give results.

 

_They have just a few days to get Dean the hell out of here._

 

   Cas had put on his trench coat again for Dean's sake. It was what he wears all the time and so Dean would feel more at ease if he saw more familiar things during this session, should things go wrong. Balth had donned a bullet proof vest and a few other precautions. Not telling Cas or Dean this, wearing it underneath his jacket. He had minimal experience in this, and wanted to be prepared at least a little bit to handle a pissed off dragon.

   “Ok Dean. Showtime. All you have to do, is watch this spinning disk and listen to my voice.” Balthazar said while finishing up his area. A very long rope was strung up from the ceiling just outside his cage and at the end was a wide wall clock that he'd pulled off of the break room wall, and used shiny tape to cover the back side of it. When it spins, it will reflect the light from overhead with its glass clock face and tape on the other side. Just enough difference to create a vibrating sparkle if he spun it fast enough. For now, it was lazily drifting back and forth at the end of the rope, spinning slow enough for Dean to see the clocks black arms strobe past. Balth gave it another pat to spin faster. Dean's gaze was on it more often then not.

   “I want you to relax.” Balthazar said soothingly, making sure that the disk wouldn't sway too much as it rotates.

   Dean signed, 'why not cas do it?'

   Castiel was sitting cross legged next to Dean's forearm and patted it, “Because Balthazar has more experience with this then I do. I trust him, so you should too.” Dean snorted a little but relented. He gave the go ahead and took and released a huge breath.

   “Dean, I want you to rest your head on the ground, but keep watching the disk.”

   The spinning round metal pendant clock was swaying very slowly side to side. Dean found himself following it with his eyes even before Balth asked him to. The small guys voice drifted in from nowhere and everywhere asking him to relax all of his muscles, clear his mind and that soon he will see himself on the inside. Dean never felt so peaceful before. Everything was alright.

 

   'Sammy... turn the lights off would'ya? It's too bright in here.' Dean grumbled. He closed his eyes tightly but heard some indistinct murmurs coming from somewhere to his right. What the hell? Who was in his hotel room?

   'Sammy? You have a hot date or somefin?' he said but only heard a low growl. He opened up his eyes a little to see past the bright light flashing in front of him. He heard some shuffling and then the voices abruptly stopped. He could see two figures sitting on the ground nearby, both staring at him so intensely that it made him get immediately nervous. The rest of his surroundings went unnoticed so far because holy hell one of them is reaching out to him. Never a good sign when some stranger that broke into your room while you were sleeping and started reaching a hand to your head. At least the hand didn't have an obvious weapon in it. Where was Sam? Sam wouldn't be more then a room away since they're on a hunt. Probably? What's with Colombo over there holding his hand out?

   'Who the fuck are you?' he growled and pursed his lips shut when his eyes widened a little more. He lifted up his head and was amazed and confused at why it kept on going up and up. Was he on a cherry picker? He stopped lifting it when he started to feel a little dizzy, dropping it back down. 'What the fuck is going on? How can you guys be so short? And what the hell is _growling_ over my words?!'

   “Dean! It's ok! Calm down!” the one with the tan coat was yelling and waving his arms. The other one was pulling on the guys sleeve to back up.

   'Who are you? Wait... I know you...' he said scrunching up his eyebrows and looking closer. 'You're Cas. And that must be Balth.' he crooned a note and thought it sounded more like one of those veloceraptors from Jurassic park. He got worried and turned his head around and saw something that scared the shit out of him. There was a huge fucking monster right behind him! He must be riding on its head or something because it just lifted him up into the air! He tried to scramble back off of it and ended up falling backwards into a heap. The monster lizard following after as he kicked and flailed.

   All the while Cas and that Balth dude were shouting for him to calm down. But who the fuck could calm down when there's a fucking 30 foot tall _monster_ right in this cage with him on top?! 'Do something!' he shouted and heard a roar come from nowhere. He leaped back from the sound again and was worried as hell for Cas and Balth because the monster just about crushed them underneath its huge body. He reached down and looked for wherever his arms and legs went off to because all he could see was a long ass neck and the rest of the monster panting and throwing itself from side to side. He felt a sharp jab in his side and wondered what the fuck they were thinking darting him instead of the monster!

   “Dean! You have to lay down! They might see you and think you're going insane! Calm down!”

   'Wouldn't you freak out if you - ' he started shouting again and stopped all movement to face Cas. A little surprised that the monster stopped moving too. He felt a wave of numbness wash down his side and his legs buckle. The monster moved as well, reacting as if _it_ was the one to get shot in the side. He started to lay down on his side and felt more pressure coming from more places then he thought possible. Once his heart rate started to slow he could think a little clearer. Something was moving on his own back, stretching out and twitching. The sensation was puzzling as all hell until he turned his head and saw the massive pair of wings move with every twitch he felt. He squinted hard at the one closest and imagined lifting up his arm and felt the wing move instead.

   'No fucking way.' he murmured, looking towards the other wing and making that one move as well. 'No... no way.'

   He looked down to Cas and Balth and was surprised that they were still in the cage with the monster. 'Guys, what the hell is going on?' he squinted at them. 'How do I know you? I only remember seeing you from high up. Did you... do something? What did you do? Mind meld me with a monster?'

   “Dean?” Cas said cautiously. “Dean, use your words.”

   'Duh, I am. I can't help it that the fucking monster I'm connected to is growling instead of letting me talk.' he growled and snorted in frustration. Apparently the monster wasn't going to go anywhere and he was getting very tired and out of focus. Whatever they shot him up with wasn't meant to take him down, or if it was, it obviously wasn't enough. Was this some kind of 'remote viewing' that Sam talked about? Looking through someone else's eyes?

   “Sign language, Dean. Use your hands and tell us what's going on.”

   'If I knew that I'd tell you.' he grumbled but then decided to humor the guy and then lifted up his hand to sign, 'what is going -' before he stopped and looked at the huge paw next to him. He lifted up the pinky finger and the huge clawed finger lifted up. He wiggled his finger. The clawed one wiggled. He turned his hand over and really looked at it. Flexing it into a fist and marveling at how much control he had over the thing. He looked back to the wings and flexed those too. He tried to get to his feet to see what all this body looked like but whatever he was drugged with was working overtime. 'Am I a monster?' he growled and then cursed, and lifted up his hand to sign it.

   Cas sighed and said, “Dean... you...” he seemed to be at a loss of words. A pat on his shoulder from Balth had him continue. “You were a human hunter. There was something in the woods that got to you before you got to it.” he said, clearly waiting for Dean to fill in the gaps.

   Dean was distracted when he ran his tongue along his mouth, a habit he used to do all the time in school and on particularly difficult hunts. Only now feeling along all the sharp points and noticing he could feel both sides of his mouth at the same time. sticking the tongue out to look at its forked end. He thought to himself that this is what he has to work with. This isn't some monster he's mentally piggy back ridding. He sucked it back into his mouth and tried to say something in English this time. Starting slow, 'I am a monster.' but it came out as a long drawn out growl instead. He huffed angrily at his own inability to speak and shouted, 'I am a fucking _monster!_ '

   The people down below covering their ears from the immense roar.

   Dean didn't spare them another thought as the drug was working its way out of his system again. Being shoved aside by adrenaline. 'I became the thing that I hunt! How could this have happened? How could I be so careless? What the hell happened? Wait...' he stopped his roars to get to his feet. He looked over to the two guys that were still hanging back behind the bars but within reach. He took a step and nearly face planted. Remembering that he's got more legs now that his arms are doing double duty. Wing arms and front leg arms. _So freakin' weird_. His wings splayed a little for balance and he was pleased that they seemed to be more or less running on instinct. The tail, now that was another thing altogether _bizarre._ He ignored the crap out of it until he had to deal with it. Right now he had a mission.

   He rushed towards the bars of the cage he was apparently being held in and reached forward. Easily snagging the one he knew as Cas in his grip. He encircled the whole guys torso and upper legs in just his hand and pulled him through the bars. Cas's arms were pinned to his sides and Balthazar was freaking out. Running up to Dean's hand that held Cas and tugging at the fingers to let his friend loose. Dean dipped his head down and growled at Balth until he backed up a bit. Some kind of mist was coming out of his long mouth but he wasn't concerned about that. He faced Cas again and said as slowly as he could, hoping that he could say this in English or that Cas would suddenly understand, 'Where is Sam?' and heard the low grumble. He snarled a little and tried again. 'What did you do with Sam?' the growl more intense.

   Castiel's breath was cut short, the grip Dean had on him barely allowed for any air to enter his lungs. And now he's growling at him in long strings of what he probably considers words. His voice, when he was able to use it came out smaller and more pained then he thought it would. “ _Dean... you're hurting me_...”

   Dean jolted when he heard the fear and pain lacing each word and nearly dropped Cas onto the ground, stopping himself because that would cause Cas more injury then just holding him. 'Sorry! Sorry.. don't know my own strength!' he loosened his grip but still held him up out of Balthazar's reach. 'Just tell me where Sam is.' he chirp growled. Trying to say it in a less threatening manner. He was shocked as all hell that something as big as this body could chirp like that dinosaur that spits that blinding gunk at Newman in that movie. 'Am I a freakin' dinosaur?' he chirped again and noticed that Cas was breathing easier now but started to cough once he got enough lung space for the act. Dean couldn't understand why but then saw that Balth had left at some point to grab a gas mask and a spare. He was jogging back to them, waving it in the air.

   “Hey! You have to stop breathing on him like that! It's toxic!” Balthazar shouted. He made it to the bars and didn't even hesitate to come closer. Waving the mask in the air in front of Dean's chest.

   Cas looked over Dean's fist and saw Balth standing a good 5 feet below his shoes. “Dean... mask...” he got out between coughs and nodded in Balth's direction and Dean lowered Cas a little so that Balthazar could reach him. He wouldn't let go of Cas though, until he got some answers. Just because he knew the guy doesn't mean that he _knows_ the guy.

   Balthazar had a little difficulty putting the gas mask on his friend and cinched up the straps. He placed both hands on Dean's index finger and gave it a tug. Hoping that Dean would decide to let his friend go.

   Dean tightened his fist a little more and lifted Cas back into the air. 'Not yet.' he grumbled. 'You got some explaining to do.'

   “Dean. Just put him down and tell us what the hell you're trying to say. We obviously can't understand you so talking to us isn't gonna get us anywhere.” Balth said and Cas started to get some color back into his face.

   “He's right Dean... I promise I wont run from you. I know you must be scared. It's gonna be alright. It's just you me and Balth here. The guards are all outside far away along the outer perimeter. You can say anything you want right now. Even the cameras are turned off. They’re playing on a loop.”

   Dean squinted at him. He looked around himself and for the first time noticed that the place he was in was probably an old airplane hanger. Huge. There was lab equipment all along the other wall and from corner to the other corner. A room off to the front of the hanger to the right was an office. Something in the back of his mind said it was Cas's office and he was the one in control of this place. Wait... not the head boss, that's Michael. Michael looked a lot like his dad did when he was younger.

   “Dean. I swear I wont run.” Cas said again and Dean felt the guy squirm a little in his grip. So odd of a feeling. A person is in his hand. A whole person. Well, from upper chest to knees but still. He gave Cas a small bounce to judge how much he weighed in his hand and Balth sucked in a breath.

   'Oh calm down. It's like you think I was gonna toss him or something.' probably could though... doesn't weigh hardly anything at all. Two pounds at most. His fingers shifted a little, feeling out the body under the coat. 'Man you are like... way too fit to be some nerd scientist.' He murmured and felt the muscles flex under his fingers. 'Yeah. Damn.' he opened up his hand a little bit to get a good look at the body. Cas started to sit up a little, hands immediately going to his huge thumb in front of him and pulling himself up more to keep from falling. Dean angled his hand so that it was more of a platform and marveled at the small guy that was shifting some more to sit on his palm. 'You're taking this awfully well.' Dean noted. 'Better then I am in fact. Course... you are used to seeing me like this. I just got here.' he smirked and decided, hell with it, and slowly lowered his hand so that Cas could climb off of his hand and onto terra firma again.

   True to his word, Dean was very surprised, Cas did not run. He did however take a few respectable steps back, but that was so that Dean could look him in the eye better. Not be directly over top of the cute guy. Wait... what? Since when did he start thinking of Cas as _cute_?

   Dean dipped his head down and realized that this whole time, he could smell the men and what they were feeling. _Feeling_ for crying out loud! Cas was relieved at the moment, and after a good sniff of the other dude, Balth smelled a little worried but overall better then he did earlier. Was it weird to smell dudes? Whatever. He was apparently a huge monster now with wings. Gonna be a long night.

   He looked down and saw Sam and Bobby's names on the ground, close to his own which was carved deeper then the others. 'Hey, did you... did I do this?' he asked and pointed at the names. 'This could be good, ok, guys. I want to know where Sam is.' he said and pointed to Sam's name, repeating it, 'Sam... Sssaaaammmm' but that ended with a crooning growl same as all the other words he tried saying. Apparently whatever he's feeling alters the words. Doesn't matter what the word is, half of it depends on how he's feeling when he says it. Awesome. Well, there goes them learning how to understand him.

   'Hey, short pale and handsome, do you know what happened to Sam or not?' he looked to Cas and pointed to the name in the ground and started to circle it with his finger. 'Because if anything happened to my baby brother there will be fuckin hell to pay.'

   “Sam?”

   'Yes! That's what I've been saying for half an hour now! Where. Is. _Sam_?'

   “Sam's not here.”

   'No shit Sherlock, _where_ is he?' he decided to emphasize his point by shading his eyes from the 'sun' and peering out along the horizon. He couldn't think of a different way of pantomiming the question. He sure as shit wasn't going to be using sign language. He barely remembers it from that one hunt years ago. Some part of his mind supplied him with the impression that he had been using it this whole time, but that was squashed down. His worry for his brother's safety started to climb. What if the monster got to Sam first?

   “We don't know where Sam is.”

   Dean's heart wanted to break. He could be dead. He took a few deep breaths and then pointed to Bobby's name, raising an eyebrow. Bobby would know what happened.

   “Neither do we know where Bobby is.” Cas said, then apparently had an idea, “Oh! But if you tell us what his last name is, or where he lives, we can help find them.”

   Dean's heart went from falling to stopping. Holy shit. He could just tell them where Bobby lived. They seemed to want to help him out. If anyone had a chance of knowing where his brother would be that's Bobby. He was just about to scratch out his address in the cement then stopped short. What if this is a trap? What if whatever happened to Dean might happen to Sam and Bobby too. These guys just want more of whatever the fuck he is. Far as he's concerned, he just got here. These two probably turned him into this. He decided to play it safe and shrugged at them. The two seemed disappointed with that but not surprised. Maybe they've been over this before.

   How long has he been here anyway? Surely he wasn't just turned yesterday. And what the hell is he? He turned his head again, taking in the immense body, wings, long ass tail, scaled skin, clawed hands and – yeah, clawed feet too. As he took stock in his attributes his mind kept cycling through known monsters and the name _vellum_ came up unannounced. Something trying to make a connection but it fizzled out almost as fast.

   A white knight with a broad sword came to mind and he was attacking something immense with all these characteristics and more. Some movie from one of his and Sam's hotels with castles, caves and bad dialog. Fire breathing monster, the toxic fumes he had coughed up when he was pissed at Cas, the scales, forked tongue and fangs...

   'Son of a bitch. I'm a dragon.' he sat down heavily, looking at his forearms and chest again as it started to heave. 'No. NO way in hell am I a _dragon_. The only dragons we came across were those dudes with the hot hands and bad attitudes. Dean had no drive to kidnap any virgins or a new-found lust for gold and jewels. That's what all dragons are after right? And why the hell would a dragon like this medieval thing be in America anyhow? Shouldn’t it be holed up in some cave? In some European mountainside? America is fresh out of castles and wild landscapes. Some hunter would have seen a proper dragon by now if the looked like this. Can't exactly hide in the bushes.'

   Dean looked down to Cas and Balth again. Pretty sure he was still in the US of A. At least they spoke English and didn't seem to have an accent. This would be so much easier if he could interrogate them properly. He was at a huge disadvantage here. A mirror. First thing he needs is a mirror. Maybe if he could see the body he's possessing he could make good and well damn sure that he is, in fact, a fire breathing asshole.

   He took a clawed finger, still amazed that he could move such a huge thing independently and lightly wrote out the word, 'mirror' onto the cement. Light enough so he could destroy the word with a brush of his rough hand.

   “You want a mirror?” Cas asked, Dean nodded. “Uhhh.... I don't think we have one that big...” he looked behind himself and Balth just waved a hand at him.

   “In the men's room. I'll need help taking it down. Come on, Cassie.” he said, slapping Castiel's back. He stopped midway and looked up to Dean. His hand going for the mask's mouthpiece. “Mind if we take these off? They're terribly stuffy to wear.”

   Dean cocked his head at them. Then got it. That spray from earlier is the un-ignited version of his fireball. He wondered why the hell it didn't ignite. He gaped for a second. He could have accidentally set that dude on fire! Sure he wanted answers, but that certainly doesn't mean he would torch the guy for them.

   Cas seemed to get what Dean was thinking and said, “You are able to produce what I’m gonna start calling liquid magnesium compound spray. It is toxic for humans to breath and ridiculously flammable. Imagine acid that burns and can't be doused with water. You used to be able to make a spark with your back molars... uh, wisdom teeth, to ignite the flammable spray. Your sparker teeth were removed before you got here.” Cas then waited a beat before slowly taking off his mask.

   He rubbed his hand through his hair to straighten it but ended up making it look like sex hair to Dean. He licked his lips subconsciously. He thought to himself, 'Good look on the dude. No, no don't fix it! Awww... damn.' he pouted when Cas fixed the random hairs down again. 'Still looks pretty hot though.' Dean mused. He caught himself and then thought, 'why the hell did I just think that? I'm not gay. Well, there was that one time with Benny behind the Gas-n-Sip, but that doesn't count. I was drunk. Mostly...' he watched as Cas set down the gas mask and Balth set his down next to it. They both went off to a different part of the warehouse to fetch the mirror. 'Nice ass though.' he shook his head and paced for a second. 'No. It wouldn't work out. I'm a dragon, he's my prison guard. Typical teen romance novel bullshit. Those never work out.'

   Cas and Balth were in the bathroom with the door closed as they talked and worked on pulling down the 3 foot by 5 foot mirror. “You know, Cassie, I think Dean likes you.” he winked and said, “like, _like_ likes you.”

   “Speak plainly.” Cas grouched.

   “You know what I mean. He was checking you out when we were walking away. You didn't notice?”

   “No. I didn't. Because he wasn't 'checking me out', he was probably just making sure we weren't going to turn around and shoot him up with that herb again.”

   “Admit it. You think Dean's hot.” Balth teased as he got his side unhooked and went over to help Cas with his side.

   “What?! You think I'm into bestiality? Or worse then that, I don't even think they have a name for it, _monster-_ ality? Like that's even possible.”

   “I meant _human_ Dean. He thinks he's a human stuck in that body. It's obvious. You don't have to speak his language to understand the reason behind the freakout he was having. And if that weren't evidence enough, he's asking for a mirror. Dragon-Dean had never asked for a mirror before. Didn't care what he looked like. He's probably never even seen himself before. What I was talking about is his human side. Wait...You actually thought of doing it with him _now_?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow.

   Cas could see the cogs turning in his friend's mind. Thinking of all the positions they could be in and shuddered. No way in hell. If all things were proportional on Dean's current body, then he's packing something terrifyingly huge inside that sheath.

   Balthazar belted out a laugh. Clutching his sides, he giggled, “Dean's 'broadsword' would be quite impressive. I don't think anyone's actually seen it. Have you?”

   “No I haven't. No one has. And that's not really appropriate talk now is it?” Cas ground out.

   Balth hummed for a second. If anything, this is the perfect place for it. In the men's room. They got the mirror down and onto the ground. Panting a little due to the weight and struggle to get the damned thing down and unbroken. Mirrors don't look all that heavy when they're sitting on the wall. “I suppose you're right. You two would have to figure this out on your own. Just be careful alright? Afterall, I don't want to see you get skewered like a shiskabob.”

   “Now there's a mental image I could have lived happily without.” he glared at Balth. “Thanks for that. Now every time I look at him all I'm going to be thinking of is how big his genitalia is.”

   “Like you weren't before.”

   A blush crept up Cas's face but he hid it behind the mirror once they got it standing. “Shut up, Balth.”

   Balthazar lifted up his side and shock painted his face, “YOU _DID_!” he laughed, kicking the door open wider so they could both leave with the mirror between them. “You randy schoolboy!” he chuckled some more, bringing his voice down a few decibels so dragon boy wouldn't hear them. Cassie seemed to know what he was planning on saying so the closet pervert sped up his pace a little. Hoping that the threat of a dragon overhearing this conversation would still Balth's tongue. It didn't.

   “Just make sure you use protection.” he nodded sagely.

   “I'll have my blade.” Castiel deadpanned.

   Balthazar nearly died laughing. Mirror falling to one side as Cas flipped around awkwardly to keep it from breaking. He laughed harder at the confused expression on the dragon's face and outright glare from Cassie's. Balth stumbled back to the mirror and picked up his side again. Cassie cursing him out the whole time.

   'What's going on?' Dean growled at them. 'This is pointless. Why the hell do I keep trying to talk to you when all you hear is this monster talking?' he grumbled some more. 'I suppose I could say anything to you right now.' he then smirked and said, 'Cas, I don't usually go for guys, but you are one _sexy_ mother fucker and if I ever turn human again I’d like to turn you over and -'

   “Man he's talkative tonight.” Balthazar said as Dean kept going on and on with whatever was on his mind. He cocked his head to the dragon after they set the mirror down to watch. Dean was moving his hand in a poking motion, forward and back a few times, and then scissoring his fingers. Was he finally figuring out the Rochambeau game? Dean was currently winking at Cas and then giving the thumbs up before licking the air repeatedly with his eyes half lidded. He growled some more one sided conversation and then nodded firmly. Moving his hand in a wide swoop and then nickering.

   “Ooohhhkayyy.. whatever that was about.” Balthazar said to himself. “Got your mirror, Medusa.”

   'Goodie! Now let's see what this body is so I can figure out a way to kill it. Once I get out of it first.'

   The mirror was angled up but Dean could only see the bars, his feet and a bit of his chest. He reached a hand through and they backed up a little to give him the space he needed to grip it between his fingers and thumb. He pinched it lightly and pulled it gingerly through the bars and angled it against them, leaning it back so he could back up and take a good long look at all of himself in the small mirror. To him it was about 6 by 9 inches or so. He turned around and took a few steps. Dean took a breath and faced the mirror.

   The instant he did, he saw a monstrous face. Long nose, horns, sharp fangs inside a slowly gaping mouth, some kind of weird fans on the sides of his head were spreading slowly out of their own accord. He noticed freckles everywhere and the wings started to open up once he focused his attention on those extra appendages that he could live happily without. Useless damned things because no way in hell would he be caught dead flying. He started to breath a little more rapidly and looked closer at the mirror. Noticing how green his eyes were, the same as they were when he was human. The same shade, the same pattern. His eyes. They weren't some random monster's eyes. They were his. This was _his body_. Morphed, twisted, violated, desecrated and apparently abused from the looks of it. Malnourished, and sick looking, his stomach twisted. Bile rose up this throat, burning his esophagus. He just realized that wasn't the first time today. No wonder. Judging by what he sees in the mirror, the body had seen better days. His body. This is his body. _How could this be his body_?

   Dean started to pant and panic a little. He thought that maybe his mind was somehow transferred to this this this _thing_ – but no. he _was_ the thing. His mind started to race and he felt himself slipping. Something was tugging at his consciousness and it was winning. A familiar presence. Like a warmth from inside. He felt it's soothing but insistent tug and let himself be pulled back from the forefront. Falling back into the void. It felt odd, but reassuring. This new combination of himself and the other, it would handle this. He trusted it like he trusted himself.

   The dragon opened up his eyes and looked blearily at the two figures hovering nearby. They were saying something to him but it was all a jumbled mess. He huffed at them to be quiet for just a minute while he gets his bearings. He lifted up his head and sniffed the air with his eyes closed. Oh. Right. That's Cas. And that is Balth. He's safe. They're still here. He grinned at them tiredly and lifted up a hand from where he was still laying on his side. Tilting his head a little so they could see how pleased he was that they didn't take off once that odd test they were doing was done. That was quick. Seems like it only took 30 seconds from start to finish. He signed, 'test go ok?' and let his hand fall back down again.

   “Dean? You still here?”

   Dean scrunched up his eyes and looked over to his body and signed slowly, knowing that Cas still has some trouble with the hand speak. 'where did I go?' and lifted up an eyebrow. 'you ok?' he could smell an odd combination from the two of his friends. It was hard to pinpoint what it was exactly. Sadness. But not like someone died, or was about to get hurt. Just, a little sad and disappointed. He must have failed the test. Crap. And Cas looked so hopeful too. He turned his head in shame and curled it underneath his wing.

   Balthazar spoke up a little, “Dean? Are you.. uh, _you_? Or do you feel like... I don't know, Cassie you ask him.”

   “Dean. What do you remember?”

   His wing twitched. He slowly unfolded his head from its mini-cave and he signed, 'sorry I fail test.'

   “So you don't remember anything?”

   Dean sadly shook his head. Was he supposed to? But how could he remember what happens when he sleeps? It's not like he can just bring up everything he dreams about. They usually fade in just a few seconds and they've never made much sense. He was never that short. This 'Sam' guy probably doesn't even exist. Or maybe he was just a handler at the zoo he was born in. nNo matter.

   “Balth and I need to talk for a minute. We'll be right back. I promise.”

   Dean whined, it's because he failed. They were going to talk about how much he sucks where he can't hear them. Perfect. Wait, what the hell is that thing leaning on the floor? Where the hell did that come from? How did it get here? He got to his feet and started to amble to the reflective thing inside the cage it looked like the overhead lights but they moved when he moved.

   Balthazar and Cas saw what he was going after and beat him to it. They pushed it to lay flat on the ground and it made a snick noise as something broke. “No! No, Dean. don't look at it. Ok? Promise me you wont look at it until we tell you to. Ok?”

   Dean nosed at the thing with the gray back and black frame but nodded a little. He gave a thumbs up and backed away from it as if it would hurt him. If they gave him an order, he would follow it. He already failed one test, he wont fail this one. It appeared easy enough. Don't touch the thing. He turned to his water dish and drank gallons of it, damn he was thirsty. He heard the office door being shut behind Cas and Balth and let them talk about whatever it was they needed to talk about.

   “Balth. It was the mirror. That's the trigger between his personalities. We said in the hypnosis inducing that he will see himself on the inside. His mind flipped it around so that when he literally _see's_ himself, it will be the one on the _inside_ that comes out and talks to us.” Castiel rubbed a hand through his hair, starting to pace. “This is big. This is huge. I don't know what to do, all I wanted was to find out what the real Dean wants. What he thinks we should do. I can't sit by and keep him all caged up like an animal. I mean you saw, he is trapped inside his own mind.”

   “Cassie, that is him. Both sides. Human Dean and dragon Dean is all one thing. Like, two sides of a coin. I don't think we should play favorites.”

   “But human Dean would want us to side with him. Same with dragon Dean. No doubt his human side hates his dragon side. Wouldn't you? If you found out one day that you were a dangerous monster trapped in a cage, wouldn't you hate that side of yourself? The only reason he's locked up is because he's a monster.”

   “I suppose, and the dragon side might not even understand that he was once entirely human. There was no freckled dragon before Dean was swallowed up by that mother, Eve. The dragon owes his existence to the human. Good or bad.”

   Cas found himself pouring two drinks and slumped his shoulders. When things get too heavy he always turns to a bottle. Whether its pills or alcohol. He was never this dependent on barbiturates before. And now he's even doping up his big friend with his own brand of happy herb.

   “Maybe this was a bad idea.” The words hung in the air and neither of them were sure who said them, maybe both.

   Cas realized belatedly that he was one that said it and turned to Balth who had a similar look of unrest.

   “Cassie, I think... maybe we should try again. Let's see what his human side wants. He's been trapped in that body for nearly 6 months. He doesn't know what happened to his family. And being a hunter, he might even know how to reverse this.”

   “Reverse what? Being a dragon? Is that even possible?” Cas nearly whispered. He glanced out the window to Dean who was sitting and looking at the back side of the flat mirror on the ground. He heard it crack but it didn't sound like it shattered all the way. Would it still work in bringing his human side back out for a chat? Would it damage his mind even further? Bring out an entirely _dragon_ side, that has no humanity whatsoever?

   “Balth. What if it makes him feral? What if, ok, let's say human Dean is the base, dragon Dean is the combination. What if dragon is the other end of the spectrum? And that is what we will unleash if he looks into that mirror again?”

   Balth hummed thoughtfully, “Hadn't considered that.” he looked out to Dean as well. “Maybe we should have read the whole manual first.”

   “You didn't?!”

   “I may have lightly skimmed the important pages.” He shrugged. “There were literally hundreds of methods for putting someone under. And it worked didn't it?”

   Cas ran his hands down his face, sighing in frustration. “We need an expert. We need someone that knows about all this... this supernatural stuff.”

   “Like a hunter?”

   “Yes.” Cas nodded and then looked to Balthazar, “Yes! We find his brother and dad's friend, and they will know what to do with him. After all, they were able to keep him under wraps for at least a month until Azazel got his hands on him. Azazel would know where they were living because according to Meg, he was the one that stole Dean from them. Two birds one stone! We get Azazel, he gives Meg her brother back, and tells us where he found Dean. Where Sam and Bobby are.”

   “Oh, that simple!” Balth waved his hands out, “Well why didn't I think of that?” he walked behind Cas's desk just to keep from rounding on his friend. “So, boss man, how do we get Azazel?”

   Cas thought about it for a second, starting to get annoyed with Balth's tone. “Spitball with me. Throw some ideas out if you've got them.” He huffed and looked out to Dean beyond the closed office window. “Ok, so Meg is already at the military base with Eve. She said she hadn't seen Azazel yet so we have some time. You and I get Dean out of the cage and go to the military base, storming the castle. Rescue the mother and take off into the woods. We give Dean the incentive to go back to the military base to rescue his mother. If she was once human too, it's not right to keep her hostage as well.”

   “Pretending for a minute that this plan is a viable plan, getting Dean out of the cage might be tricky. The bars are welded shut.”

   “His liquid magnesium compound should burn hot enough to melt it.”

   “Just call it his mag spray. Or something shortened down. Cool sounding.”

   Cas rolled his eyes. “Ok fine. His maspry... flamspray. Flambe? Flame... acid.”

   “Nevermind.” Balth sighed, “Just call it his spray. Fumeflame... fumespray. Flame perfume, great now you got me doing it. Asshole.”

   “Acidflame... flacid.” even Cas had to chuckle at that, “Apologies.”

   “No no! I like it! The flaccid dragon. Got a nice ring to it.” he grinned wickedly and went on, “Ok, so captain flaccid dragon takes down the poles and we smuggle him past the cameras, the guards, the other cameras, the civilians, and the military that like to use that main highway system. Then take him right back to the military base that tried to kill him, find his mother who is a much larger, more dangerous dragon. Release her and hope she doesn't kill us, all the while hoping that Dean doesn't turn on us the second his mother gets loose...” he trailed off. This plan sucked.

   “This plan is not as easy as I anticipated. Ok. New plan.” Cas stated.

 

* * *

 

   The next day feels like any other. Dean just got done eating breakfast and watches as more people show up for their shift then yesterday. Apparently since he finally gave them some stuff to test, they were now eager to get back to work. He allowed one of them to clip off a small bit of his nail, sharpening it up and letting them take away the clippings. He admired the new point on his index finger. He had rubbed it down days ago when he wrote his name in the cement and it was starting to grow out with a dull point. His teeth could only do so much to sharpen it and he didnt feel like rubbing it along the cement to grind it back into a point. This way the white coats had their sample and Dean saved himself an afternoon of sharpening.

   He sighed contentedly at the warehouse, everyone happy and the scents were filled with positive endorphins and pheromones. But someone new walked in with everyone else this morning. He still has trouble distinguishing one biped from another, especially if they all dressed the same. Cas and Balth stood out because they were dressed differently from the rest as well as each other. This new scent seemed to be coming from someone along the far wall. The vents failed to carry it accurately to him. It got mixed up with everyone else's scent.

   He saw one guy stand about a half foot taller then the others. He seemed to not know where stuff was, bumping into things and checking inside every drawer and behind every door. Even the unused closets and lockers. No one else noticed, but Dean did because he had nothing better to do then to watch the bipeds move around all day. Cas was with Balth at the snack area, getting their own breakfast together. They didn't notice anything wrong, and they would know, so Dean relaxed a bit. The guy kept stealing looks to him, which wasn't uncommon for the bipeds to do, but that scent got a little stronger after every glance. Still mingling with everyone else's scent, all he was able to detect was an elevated level of anxiety in the group. Dean chirped once and everyone else more or less ignored him but that guy looked straight at him. He then immediately looked down and away again.

   Must be new.

   Dean thinks the new hire smells familiar, brown hair pulled back into a pony tail and covered with a dirty old baseball-cap. He had a scruffy beard and looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in months. Dean could relate. The guy is wearing something very potent in scent, obviously trying to mask his own scent. When he got closer to the cage, and away from the other white coats, Dean's eyes got wide. He would recognize it anywhere. His mind raced and heart stuttered, 'no way.' That scent was so ingrained in his memories, his visage into Dean's very soul. The feel of the man's spirit, his essence was now flooding all of Dean's senses, memories, thoughts and feelings. A familiarity that spanned lifetimes. He'd know this man anywhere. He is _family_. That, is his _brother_.

   Just as Dean's about to call joyously over to him, the tall kid, _Sam_ signs, 'dont' which stops Dean dead in his tracks. What? What the hell? Why would his brother do that? Doesn't he want to talk to him? Dean hadn't seen him in months. Ages. He would never forgive himself for forgetting about him. He wanted to make it up to Sam as soon as possible. Sammy. His little brother.

   Sam has a pensive smile on his lips. Nervous as hell. His scent just spiked with fear. It tastes bitter on Dean's tongue and he wants to spit it out. His brother should never know fear. Dean is supposed to protect him. It's his job, but more then that, he'd do it anyway. Dad didn't ever have to tell him to watch Sammy. Dad... he had a dad... but he's dead. Now it's just him and Sammy. Bobby watching over them as a father. Dean's head is filling almost too fast with memories of his past life. They're threatening to take him down. He shoves them aside. Plenty of time to go down memory lane later. Right now, he's got his brother back.

   A brother that doesn't want to talk to him right now.

   Why? Dean glances around really quickly, pretending not to take interest in Sam, to see if anyone's watching. He lifts up his hand as if he were scratching his neck but before it gets there he signs one letter, 'Y' and then scratches his shoulder. Looking surreptitiously over at the man in the baseball cap. Bobby's hat, his mind supplied. Now that he knows who it really belongs to, he can smell the lingering scent of his dadfriend on it.

   Sam adjusts said hat and while doing so he looks pointedly at a spot over Dean's head. An index finger pointing it out and several other things along the ceiling. Sam then goes back to pretending to work. Dean looks up to the cameras and most of them are pointed at him so he can't even sign anything back. The tall kid checks again to see that no one is paying him any attention, then signs, 'gotta get you out to come with me now.' And then walks casually into the security feed room. Dean is uneasy as he paces, trying to be discrete in watching the kid and wondering if he should tell Cas that someone invaded his warehouse. He still has a huge chunk of memories missing. Most notably is how he left Sam and Bobby and ended up in Azazel's hands. Did Sam turn him over? How else would Azazel get to him? Sam and Bobby were hunters, they could take care of one person. He was at Azazel's for months. Why didn't Sam come and rescue him? Why didn't he save him from being tortured? Didn't he care? Did he even try?

   Dean chirps over to Cas and Balthazar and they come over with breakfast in hand. They are all grins but they both fall when they see Dean's distress.

   'are we safe here?'

   “Safe? Yes, why wouldn't we be?”

   Dean paces some more, looking at the security room. 'can I leave?'

   Now Cas and Balthazar look uncomfortable. “Uh, that's not really up to us.” and look to each other for a response.

   'can I leave?' he signs again and points to the bars where they attach to the floor and ceiling.

   “Uh, well, it's not that simple Dean. The bars are welded in place.”

   Dean nods thoughtfully and glances at the security room again. Balthazar follows his line of sight and Dean looks down with a brief look of fright. 'its ok!' he signed hastily after chirping quite loudly at him. Now that gets Cas looking suspicious at him as well.

   “Balth. What is it?” Castiel asks, still squinting up at Dean's face.

   “Dean just looked in the security room. Why would he ask if he could go and then look to the room?” he whispered, starting to walk over to the room. Dean's nervousness was stamped down as he simultaneously stamped his foot for attention.

   When both men's eyes were on him, he could hear the tall kid leave the room hastily. Using the diversion well. Dean could see Sam out of the corner of his eye but hear him better as the tall biped went to the lab area and put on a different white coat, one that actually belonged to a scientist that worked there. Dean just now realized that Sam had on an ordinary white coat just to get in the door. His disguise was adapting on the fly to fit his surroundings. Dean remembers several times when he and Sam would wear costumes to sneak into places that had hauntings. Hiding in plain sight. He must have that far-away look in his eyes again because now Cas and Balth were both giving Dean a suspicious glance that turned into a glare from Balth.

   “He's up to something.” he whispered into Cas's ear and started to march his way over to the security room.

   “Dean. What's going on with you?”

   'nothing. Just dont like cage.'

   “You said you did yesterday.”

   Dean growled and signed, 'you like it? You have it.' and reached for Cas through the bars. Castiel just barely managed to back up fast enough from the incoming clawed hand and nearly fell backwards trying to regain his balance. His jaw dropped and he looked down to the lines painted on the floor. He looked back up to Dean with searching eyes. Not loosing eye contact, Cas firmed his lips and took those last few steps away from the cage to the line indicating the furthest the dragon could reach.

   Dean was hurt by that. His heart lurched and his throat felt too tight. Cas didn't trust him anymore. That hurt turned to anger quickly as he roared at him. 'dont like cage!' he signed messily and used that hand to grab at the bars. Trying to shake them loose. He bit and clawed at one of the bars until several guards came over with cattle prods sparking. He hissed at them but when one of the poles got too close for comfort he backed up out of their reach. He shot a dirty glare at Cas and signed, 'you promised no pain'.

   “Dean...” words failed him. Why was Dean acting like this? Balthazar came up from behind and said quickly and quietly in his ear, “Someone tampered with the feed. They put it on a loop. While I was watching it, I saw myself standing next to you and him.”

   Castiel looked to the security room and then back to Dean. “You saw something didn't you. You saw someone go into that room. Who was it?”

   Dean just glared unhappily at him and huffed.

   “Balth. Get the guards to shut every entrance and exit. We have a saboteur in our midst.”

   Balth nodded and while Cas kept a firm glare on Dean's cage and its surrounding areas, men all around were walking briskly to the exits and locking them. Engineers, lab technicians and his whole team looked to the doors, guards, and finally their boss who only had eyes for Dean. But not in the good way.

   Sam kept up a string of curses under his breath as the exits were all barred. Crap. He missed his chance to get out. He looked over to Dean. Worry painting his face and then to the guy in charge. He thinks his name is Mr. Novak or something like that. Guy looks pissed. With most of the guards at the doors, the few remaining ones are now gathering up everyone in the warehouse. Sam tries to get to a bathroom or side room but is spotted and herded along with the rest of the people. Mr. Novak calls someone named Balthazar over to watch the dragon and then Novak is coming over to the group of people. Looking hard at each person. Sam starts to sweat harder. Novak is clearly trying to figure out which one of his employees had messed with the security footage. He gets closer to Sam and Sam just hopes to God that there were enough people working here that Novak wouldn't see him as someone that doesn't belong.

   Castiel can't help the pain behind his ribs at the thought of someone he worked with being a spy or traitor. He thought that he picked the right people. Insisted on the list when he showed it to Michael and he agreed with Castiel. Everyone working here was devoted to their job, loyal. Or so he thought. He called Balth over to watch Dean and then reluctantly went to the rounded up group of his friends, or former friends, and tried to suss out which one could be the traitor. Not Hannah, she has been too excited to work with Dean, and she wasn't anywhere near the security room. Gadreel was stationed outside for the whole day today. Back in the day, before Michael hired Cas's team, he was the only one that seemed to have an ulterior motive, hiding something. But that just turned out to be his checkered past. He was a guard at some botanical gardens and some asshole snuck in under his watch and poisoned some of the exotic birds. Gadreel got the blame and his reputation was ruined. For a long while, he lived under the name Ezekiel. Cas found out about it when he was doing a background check, but knew that Gadreel was trying to make up for it. He confronted him, and after a discussion, Castiel let Gadreel work for him. The guy knew his plants. That's why he was assigned to find out what Dean's herb was called. He was redeeming himself every day. Who doesn't have some secret they'd rather not share? To move past?

   Cas moved on over the faces, knowing every one of them there. Some started to ask questions but he he just held up his hand for silence. Next up was Samandriel, kid was smart, but he couldn’t see the kid doing anything bad. He had a honest demeanor and even as Castiel leaned forward to put some intimidation on him, the poor kid looked like he was trying to remember what he did wrong rather then trying to hide what he did wrong. Castiel went down the line. One by one his team looked to him for answers as to why everyone was gathered up. A few tried to speak or ask questions again but Castiel had to silence them. He couldn't let anything distract him as he went person to person.

   Well this face is new.

   Sam just about had a heart attack when the boss looked up into his eyes. He tried to tuck his face into the brim of his hat but startled when Mr. Novak just took the hat off completely. The guys voice sounded too deep for him. Intimidating as all hell. Novak had a presence that seemed far larger then his 5 ft 11 form.

   “What is your name?” Novak squinted suspiciously at him.

   “Uh,” Sam hesitated and looked to Dean for a split second. “John.”

   “John?” Novak questioned dubiously and Sam nodded.

   “Holmes.” He added almost as an afterthought. He usually wasn't this sloppy in picking aliases. He just suddenly thought of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson on some adventurous case and the name was just spit out. At least he didn't say Sherlock Watson. Small favors.

   There was a slight change in Mr. Novak's glare, his eyes shifted to Dean as well, looking hard. “You're gonna have to come with me.” Cas said so sternly while turning his head back to Sam, that even Sam, as big and strong as he was, shuddered.

   Well fuck.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! How did you all like Sam and Dean meeting again? and finding out that there's more then one 'Dean' in that hide? Lemme know what you think!
> 
> Title chapter from 'Come with me now' by: the Kongos   
> their Cd 'lunatic' is simply amazing. not a single bad song on it. I was tempted to use a much longer title, IE, the entire damned album, but there was only so much room.


	16. To the Soldier, Civilian, Martyr, Victim; this is War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THEN
> 
> 48 hours ago, Sam and Bobby are doing everything they can to find Dean, and once they do see him again, all hell breaks loose.

Chapter Sixteen:

To the Soldier, Civilian, Martyr, Victim; this is War

 

THEN

48 hours ago

   Bobby stayed with the car while Sam entered the military base. Or at least, what was left of it. Numerous crews were busy moving I beams and debris off to the sides, trying to unearth anything of value from the wreckage. Rather then blowing his cover by being the only person there not working, he decided to skirt the surrounding demolition site and glean what he could from the conversations around him. He picked up a shovel and moved some gravel around, ears tuned into his neighbors chat.

   He picked up a surprising amount.

   The mother dragon was being held in a nearby underground facility and was still in stasis. Sam assumed that meant she was in an induced coma or perhaps frozen. He tried several times to go take a look at her but couldn't risk being found out. There were just too many security precautions between him and her and he didn't exactly want to blow this whole mission on finding the mother. He was after his brother.

   Dean had been busy, he'll say that much. He was apparently to blame for the original fire that ignited several underground generators and munitions supply rooms. They must have pissed him off something fierce. Enough to risk death and mass murder by setting this fire. Even when he was a damned dragon, Dean was never that bloodthirsty. Sam's own blood boiled at that. What did they _do_ to him? Dean could have died and had no problem with taking everyone down with him. As Sam snooped around, he had to pretend to haul some rubble around because every so often some of the workers were heard grumbling that 'that tall kid' wasn't working as hard as they were. He had to take at least half an hour of shoveling debris before their attention went elsewhere. Digging graves prepared him somewhat for this, but he usually swapped out with Dean on those hunts. His arms started to get sore and he was glad that the lunch alarm went off. Nearly everyone went to the cafeteria and he joined in the masses. Settling down at a table with others that seemed to be of a slightly higher rank.

   He decided to stir up the pot of gossip. “Hey guys, guess what I heard.” the others looked up to him. Only the briefest moments of 'who is this guy' before, 'what's the news' a moment later. He congratulated himself for this idea, make them correct him with facts. “I heard that the boy dragon is now at some freak show down south.”

   Some sneers from the others around the table. “Where did you hear that bullshit?”

   “You know,” he thought quickly of a likely name, “Miller.”

   “ _Private_ Miller?”

   “Yeah.” he nodded like he knew who that was.

   “Well you can inform Private Miller that she is full of horse shit.” he chuckled and said, “That dragon isn't gonna see anything but the inside of a operating room.”

   A different voice spoke up. “No, I heard that Freckles was bought by Michael.”

   “Michael?” Sam asked, interest peaked.

   “Yup, some asshole that had been bugging the General for months for the big momma bitch. The General wasn't selling. Then we get a call from this lady that says she has a male dragon at some monster zoo that needs rescuing.”

   Sam's heart starts racing a little, but his game face is still on.

   “Yeah, I heard that too. She didn't want any reward or nothing. She just asked if they could take the male out and some of the other monsters. The General wasn't interested in the monsters, just the boy so he agreed to come to the rescue.”

   Now, there's a small group of others leaning into their table, listening in and nodding or disagreeing with what really happened. Apparently only a small number of soldiers and employees were privy to this information. The rumors were already starting to circulate around the cafeteria. Sam heard conflicting stories a few tables away. His head started to hurt. Which story should he believe? He decided to hear them all and check out all leads later. He cursed himself and finally hit record on his phone for getting all of their conversations on tape.

   “Mrs. Masters was the one that let us know about Spike.”

   Sam was confused, “Who's Spike?”

   “The dragon. His first name was Freckles, the boss wanted it to be 'Spike'. So it's Spike. I heard Michael wanted to call it something else after he got the thing. Don't know what exactly. Shouldn't rename animals so much, they wont know what to answer to. Had a dog that was named 4 times and only responded to 'Dog'.”

   “And where on earth would he take it?” Sam asked, getting them back on the right track and hoping for a good lead, “Another zoo?”

   “Naw, he got that thing holed up in an airplane hanger.” A younger man announced, he had a haircut similar to Dean's and a few tattoos peeking from his shirt. “Went and helped drop him off myself. Huge ass building. Freckles was in a double wide semi crate and when we left, Michael was all smiles. His second in charge, weird guy, Mr. Novel, maybe, Novak or something, couldn't wait to get their hands on him. I actually feel bad for the thing.”

   Sam's throat got a little constricted, “And why's that?”

   “Michael isn't exactly the forgiving type. From what I hear anyway. He will be all smiles and buddy buddy, but the second he thinks you're not on board with what he wants?” The tattoo guy made a cut throat motion with his thumb across his neck. “And then he's looking for a new hire. Novak isn't the first 'second in command' that Michael had. He's just the latest.”

   Another young man with a filthy jumpsuit was hovering nearby, empty tray in hand. He wedged himself in at the end to join in the conversation. “Maybe they want to find out what Freckles knows about his kind. Where he could find a little lady to make babies. I bet there's some kind of way for them to find each other. Like mating calls or whatnot. They're too spread out to not have something to find each other.”

   “Bullshit.” an older gentleman wearing a high ranking suit stood up from his seat, putting both hands firmly onto the table and leaning forward to the younger tattooed man. “All you boys are sitting here, gossiping like old maids in a sewing group. You want to know the real truth?”

   The others nodded, eagerly. Even a few tables away were paying close attention. Sam wondered how much clout this guy had if this many people were stopping and listening.

   “The real truth of the matter is, is that Michael wants to find out how to make a dragon.”

   Some murmurs around the table, parts of conversations that went along the lines of the birds and the bees but apparently, this Michael guy knew more then the rest. At least as much as Sam and Bobby and now this old guy might be telling the others the real truth too. Hopefully no one would believe him. Sam's mind whirred as he heard the guy talk, heart sinking. There might be more dragons in the world if they figure it out and decided to go for it. _Shit._

   The older man sneered at the not so quiet jeers he was getting. “There is more then one way to make a dragon!” he punched the table. “Michael wanted the mother because she is the only one that can make more. He bought the kid because he was hoping that he could use it to trade back to the General for Eve, the mother. Train the kid to be a weapon that's more valuable to our military then a wild depressed female. But in reality, the female is the key. Not because she lays the eggs after mating with a male, but because if she doesn't get a male, that's no problem at all. All she needs is a living breathing thing to swallow up whole. Whatever it is, will become a dragon.”

   “I've heard some crazy ass theory’s in my time here but that one beats all!” someone behind Sam called out. Sam was cheering this new guy on. Stay ignorant!

   “Fifty bucks says that Merchant here is high as a kite from smoking the dragon herb!”

   Some more chuckling and conversations spark up. Ok, so Dean's herb is a kind of hallucinogenic barbiturate. Good to know. Sam tried to find the younger tattooed man that said he accompanied Dean to the airplane hanger but he's nowhere to be found. At least Sam has a name he can use to track down Dean's new location and it seems like the majority of the people here agree that this 'Michael' guy bought Dean and took him away. This is why Sam has headaches. The never-ending game of tag where he is perpetually chasing his brother around is getting old real fast. A part of his mind that plays devil's advocate says, 'hell with it', and insists he goes somewhere to raise sheep instead of this living nightmare of chasing his continuously tortured brother. He's always too late. He's never going to find Dean. And if he does? It will be in a museum or freak show display, his body stuffed with sawdust and held up by cables into a frozen attack stance. A taxidermists wet dream.

   Sam covered his mouth to keep in the bile rising from the back of his throat. He stole someone's water and forced it and his food back down. His stomach wanted to protest and he put his hand to it, willing it to calm the fuck down so he can think straight. Dean is alive. Don't give up. You're so close. Look how far you've come? Sam swallowed hard and was now debating excusing himself from the conversation and hunting down the younger man, and staying to pick up any more clues from eavesdropping. Ah, hell with it. “So where did they take D- Freckles? Did they hurt him?”

   He got a few raised eyebrows for that. He brought out the puppy dog eyes to make them answer.

   “Far as we heard, Freckles is fine. Novak had been spoiling him. Not even one surgery done on him. We were able to get his whole pelt, blood samples, and full body X-rays but all that was destroyed in the fire. 'Cept for some of the skin. About 9 square feet of it was still intact. The rest got mingled in with the rest of the building's rubble and we cant tell what's rock and what was scale when it's been damn near powdered from the explosions. It doesn't burn, but it can be destroyed.”

   “Hold on.” Sam raised a hand, pulse getting a little too rapid, “Are you saying that you _skinned_ him?”

   A few nodded, others looked uncomfortable. One started talking like he was proud of that fact, “Damn right. Head to toe. And he deserves a whole lot worse then that for what he did.”

   It took every ounce of willpower for Sam not to dive over the table and beat the man senseless. They _skinned_ him! They took dean's skin _off_! How is he still alive? How much pain was he in? Then a few days later he was nearly killed in the fire. _That_ was why he had no problem with setting the fire. They tortured him just like Azazel did. Dean just wanted it to _end_. He probably wanted to die in that fire. It's a wonder he's still alive.

   His face was getting beat red and his teeth damn near chipped with how hard he was grinding them. “Excuse me.” He grit out and got up from the table. Storming past the confused onlookers. He muscled past some soldiers and guards that were off duty and waiting in line for their meals. He glared at every single person here. Belatedly realizing he should be looking for that younger guy that knows where Dean went. Where that airplane hanger is. At least with what he was able to learn, he could narrow his search for airplane hangers in the area that would be big enough to fit Dean in. Apparently he'd grown a lot since the last time they'd seen him.

   Sam cursed himself yet again for failing Dean all those months ago. He still couldn't come up with an alternative solution to how things went down on that two lane road. Bobby was bleeding out, Sam and Dean were outnumbered. There was no other way he could have gotten his brother to safety with him knocked out on that herb and also bleeding out. Not without some superhuman heroics Sam could magically pull out of his ass. This was not like the movies. There was never a happy ending to hunter's lives. You either die during a hunt, or you become a monster. In Dean's case, it was more literal then loosing your morals.

   Sam strode down the long hallway from the cafeteria towards the underground facility, there might be some papers downstairs that had Dean's new location on them. Half of the rooms left and right held what little they could salvage from the destroyed building. He was stalled by a keycard door. Shit. He forgot to snag one from the guys at the table. He made an about face and was heading back towards the cafeteria to do just that when he saw a short brunette lady pacing about, looking at the security cameras and not doing a very good job of spying on the others that were going up and down the halls. He ducked back behind a standing rack of supplies and watched her watching them. Something was up. She apparently decided something and strode down the hall past his spot. He ducked his head down to inspect the rack of MRE's in front of him until she passed by. He decided to follow her to see what was going on. Was this a terrorist attack? Were they sending cute brunettes to blow up Montana’s version of Area 51? She was also stopped in her tracks by the keycard door and huffed angrily at it. Sam had only a few seconds to duck into a side room before she strode by his hiding place again.

   He heard her deep but coy voice ask one of the bystanders if they had a keycard into the lower levels. “I forgot mine in my office.” she twirled a finger through her hair and leaned on one leg. Sam nearly snorted at that. Like flirting with these guys was going to get her anywhere. Ok so, she wasn't military or even military savvy. She got a few shakes of their heads and then was ignored. “Thanks for nothing, Fellas.” she admonished and kept on walking towards the exit.

   Sam decided that he learned all he could and that something was telling him that this lady would help him out. Even if she didn't know that she was doing so. Luck was on his side when she signed out of the facility and he waited a moment before signing out as well, taking note of the name she wrote down as he wrote down his alias.

   Meg Masters. Sam couldn't believe his good luck. This was the one that got Dean out of the zoo. She was the one that wanted to save Dean from Azazel. Sam wanted to blame her for what happened to Dean afterwords here at the base, but he didn't get the impression that she knew. Earlier, it was like she was looking for him. The mother was in a totally different part of the underground facility. Even Sam was able to track down her general location. This 'Meg Masters' obviously didn't know that Dean was gone until she asked a woman with a stack of papers walking by on her way out. So, not a spy, or 'bad guy'. Meg frowned at the woman who told her that Dean was moved but that she didn't know where, just that he wasn't at the base anymore. Meg thanked the lady for her time and looked around once outside to figure out where her car must be from here.

   As Sam followed her out of the building, he had to slow his pace because he simply had longer legs then her and could catch up to her smaller strides in no time. He just wanted to see what car she gets into, get the license plate. Oh! Shit! Gotta tell Bobby to bring the Impala around to follow that car. He fumbled with his phone for a few seconds and was startled when she turned to face him head on.

   “Why are you following me?” she stated plainly. Her short stature meant nothing to the glare she was now shoving at him.

   Sam's eyes went wide. Crap, he was loosing his touch. The future sheep farmer gawped at her for a second before remembering he could speak English, “I wasn't! I'm sorry Miss, I was just leaving too. My friend is supposed to be picking me up and he said to meet him somewhere around... oh there he is!” Sam said, pointing to a van that was waiting at the entrance to the storage garage. From their angle, she couldn’t see if there was a driver in the van or not. It being too far away and out of her intended path.

   She seemed to relax a fraction and said, “Okie dokie. Well, have a good day then.” and stood there. Watching.

   “You too!” he gave a winning smile and she watched him walk over to the van a little ways. No doubt waiting for him to corroborate his own story. He walked to the other side of the van and thanked God that the side door was unlocked. It would have been a bitch to pick the lock under her scrutiny. Once in, he saw her walk away towards a wide parking lot. Cursing under his breath again as he hastily texted Bobby his new location. The Impala pulled up and Sam dove in.

   “Ok, we gotta get to the entrance asap and find a short brunette lady in a black company car. I couldn’t see what it was exactly. We should catch up to her before she enters the city. Drive south once we get out of the area.”

   Bobby hit the gas a little harder and sped along the rarely used road. Many of the people working at that base never left for home. The barracks were untouched in the fire and there was too much work needing to be done to break for the holidays. They caught up to the black car as it was entering a parking lot where everyone’s civilian cars were being held. She transferred the company car for her own gray truck and drove off, the Impala keeping at a respectable distance away.

   Sam updated everything he was able to learn from his full day at the base and then replayed his recordings for Bobby to listen in and give his two cents. The road Meg was on kept on going until they came across a small town. Sam checked his GPS and frowned when he realized that they weren’t too far from the damned zoo. They parked at the end of a dead end street when she pulled into her house further in. They waited for a good ten minutes for her to get settled inside before parking across the street from her house. Watching. Waiting.

   Sam quietly got out of the car and went to the trunk. Bobby hissed, “You're not going to gank our only witness are you?!”

   Sam waved an annoyed hand at him and brought over his duffel. “Of course not. Jus gonna do some snooping.” He then pulled out the miniature drone that he bought last month. This one was all of 6 inches wide and 8 inches long. It resembled a toy helicopter more then a sophisticated piece of surveillance equipment. Not really meant for rough outdoor winds, but good enough for small trips. He then got out the remote, setting the drone on the Impala's roof and made it take off for Meg's roof over the living room. They watched what the drone recorded on a small screen inset into the remote controller. It landed with barely a tap and Sam then activated the microphone. They could hear a bit of conversation going on inside. Something about her brother being kidnapped and her begging the other person on the phone for him back. That she couldn't get to the dragon. Sam didn't know if she meant Dean or the mother.

   The phone call didn't last long and ended with her staring at it in despair. He and Bobby could see her through he mini blinds but couldn't quite hear her, even with the drone. Too good of house insulation. They saw her pace back and forth, clearly crying and distressed. He wanted to console her but had to keep himself hidden. She made several other phone calls into the night and they ended up camping out a little further towards the entrance of the dead end street. She would have to pass them if she went anywhere. Sam nudged Bobby awake when he heard important names in her next phone call.

   “Bobby! She's talking to Michael! She's asking if she can work for him since she knows about Dean's past. She even said the name _Dean_!” Sam was like an excited puppy. Bobby sat up straighter and had Sam fly the drone to a better location so they could watch her. Sam waited until he heard a shower going before moving it to the kitchen window. There were a few shrubs that would break up the straight lines of the drone better.

   They saw her in a new outfit, hair still wet, as she went to a plastic case. She pulled out something that looked like a walkie talkie but Bobby informed Sam that it was most likely a radio transceiver. She held it up and slowly rotated in her kitchen and then apparently found the direction the signal was greatest. Twisting back and forth as a smile grew on her red lips. She put it on the table and got out a compass, marking down the location on a piece of paper. Sam hastily got his watch compass out and made a best guess which way her transceiver was pointing. A little tricky to do since he was only watching her through the drone's camera.

   “Bet ya a hundred dollars, Dean is that way.” Sam couldn't stop the excitement from leaking out and he started to actually bounce in his seat a little like a kid going to the fair.

   Bobby also grinned wider, straightening out his ball cap for something to do as he and Sam waited for Meg to make a move. They didn't have to wait long. After a quick breakfast she was out the door, radio transceiver in hand and aimed in that direction again. Sam double checking his watch compass and noting the slightly more accurate direction now that she was seen with his own eyes instead of through the drone. He jumped out of the backseat back into the passenger side as Bobby resumed his role as driver. Bobby still hadn't fully recovered from his injury and volunteered to be chauffeur for these missions. He would give his right leg to be there with Sam but the spinal injury kept him on the sidelines, but thankfully, still in the game.

   Meg's gray truck rolled on by the Impala and kept on going. They waited a few seconds and followed after.

   Sam's heart sunk when all she was doing was some errands. More phone calls, but they couldn't hear these, and then more errands. She was buying up a fair amount of groceries for her house. Hefting in bags that were clearly too heavy for her.

   “That's a lot of meat don'cha think?” Bobby said and Sam noticed it as well. “Think Mittens is off her diet?” Leave it to Bobby to notice a cat door from half a block away.

   “We can only hope she's stocking up for a good reason. Maybe, she wants Dean to have a snack? She might be thinking of storing him somewhere and bringing him food later. Or maybe she is just really into Atkins. Who knows.”

   They watched her make another phone call, the name Michael coming up again had them sitting at the ends of their seats. “They're planning a meeting! Uhh, sounds like first think in the morning she's going to see Michael. He's inviting her to the warehouse for an interview. I thought they said it was an airplane hanger?”

   Bobby shrugged. Hoping along with Sam that it was the same place. They settled in for the night when it was apparent that Meg wasn't going anywhere. They slept fitfully, Sam folded in half in the backseat and Bobby leaning against the door on the front passenger side with his sore legs half dangling off of the bench seat. Every sound outside of the car made them jump to attention. Fearing that it was Meg leaving them behind.

   Finally, the sun came up and they decided to eat some of the rations Sam had stored in the trunk. Even though there was a diner not one block away, neither of them wanted to risk loosing their best lead. An hour later and Meg was ready to go. Sam flew the drone back to the Impala and snatched it from the ground just outside of his door. Ducking down as she drove her truck on by. They followed after and the excitement grew by leaps and bounds when she was definitely heading in the right direction. Sometimes they could see her lift up the radio transceiver and wave it back and forth, finding the roads that would take her in that direction. Sam pulled out a map and started to trace their path with a light pencil. Trying to figure out where the end of the trip will be.

   “Here. It's gotta be here. There is a wide field in the middle of this valley, with mountains almost all the way around. According to the map, there was a small airstrip here to here.” He pointed it out as Bobby drove. “It's unnamed now so it was not in use at the time this map was made. The reason it's still on the map, I'm guessing, is for pilots that might need an emergency landing strip out here in the mountain ranges.” Sam put his hand over his mouth as he thought. “Makes sense right?”

   Bobby gave a gruff affirmative. Meg's truck was so far ahead there was no way she'd recognize their car tailing after. Sam checked and re-checked the map and the compass in his watch every few minutes. Happy as a moose in an apple orchard that he was right. Every mile brought them closer to that airplane hanger and to their family.

   She pulled into the parking lot and they were forced to hang back along the treeline. There simply was no cover for the Impala in that wide expanse of field, and through binoculars they could see so many camera's and guards that it made them stupidly hopeful and ridiculously cautious. Awful lot of security for an empty airplane hanger. Bobby backed up the Impala along the road and found a spot big enough for her to hide in. Sam and Bobby both got out and cut some foliage from the trees and covered up the Impala with them. Disguising the car shape in the woods. They were on the main road, but there could be other dirt roads leading out. Sam got out his drone again and frowned at the fact that the battery only had 10 minutes left. He'd have to make this quick.

   He got it flying high enough that the camera's facing the grounds wouldn't see it easily. Then went straight for the hanger. It took 2 full minutes just to get there and then another full minute to find a vent that it could fit into. The signal to the drone threatened to cut out so he had to abandon that vent to find a window. Thankfully he did find one and took the fastest of scans of the interior. He only had 3 minutes maximum to get the drone back to the treeline or else it will crash and be discovered and they too will be found out. He found another window and made it hover from the top edge down just enough to look in. It was an office and the door was open. He could see the retreating forms of three people, two men and a woman, looked like Meg, leave the office into the main hanger. He hovered the drone lower and nearly crashed it when he saw a huge dragon beyond the office door in direct line of sight to the window. The drone's low battery light started flashing and Sam was forced to retreat it back to the car or else accidentally get the attention of those inside the building.

   His hands were so sweaty he was amazed that they didn't short circuit the controller. The drone skipped on the landing and crashed into a nearby shrub. Sam was already leaping over to its dead battery and slowing fans. Cradling it in his arms like an infant, and then looking towards the hanger. Too many thoughts were flying by his head for him to process them all. Only able to say a few disjointed words, “He's... Dean. Deans' in there. Breathing. Real... cage. Found him...” before he collapsed to the ground, tears falling freely. Happiness mixed with relief, self pity, regret, anger and then back to joy at finally finding Dean again. Alive and seemingly well. Bobby took the drone from Sam before it was crushed in his embrace and plugged it back into the Impala's cigarette lighter charger. Then plugged his old laptop into the drone and downloaded the images, audio, footage and GPS locations. After a few minutes of staring at the hanger, Sam finally came back to reality. His knees and legs felt so weak he had to lean on the black car to walk to the side. He walked around and slid into the drivers seat next to bobby so he could look at the images too. Pawing at the laptop to turn the screen up just a hair higher so the image was its clearest.

   They paused for each and every frame of footage. Fresh tears falling when they recognized Dean's green eyes anywhere. Just a few pixels was all it took. Dean had raised his wings in greeting to the people that left the office and then the drone shifted suddenly in the air from Sam's shaking hand on the controller. The last frame was Dean's wings folding back up and his mouth partially open. Sam was a little surprised to see how Dean had matured. His spikes were longer and sharper along his spine, teeth longer, he looked taller, but far too skinny. They went over the images again and again and had to remind themselves that Dean himself was still in that hanger. That these weren’t months old images they were viewing. They had gotten so used to being late that this was hard to grasp. _Dean_ was almost in their grasp.

   Now they'd just have to plan a way to get him out of there. Bobby and Sam had to duck quickly because the gray truck was now leaving the area. Just Meg behind the wheel. She looked more determined now. Like she had a mission. Sam didn't really give her another thought. He hoped she could get her brother back just as he was about to get his back. Maybe he'd help her out once this was all settled. But his family comes first. She could always go to the cops for help, but for Dean, no one could. The cops would just call the military in and the wheel of torture would just start spinning again.

   It was ages before the drone was charged enough for another flight. They had to restrain themselves from playing back the footage and using up its meager energy. For some reason the copy of the footage uploaded to Bobby's laptop wasn't as good of quality as from the drone itself. Sam fiddled with it and as good as he was with hacking computers, he couldn't for the life of him, make the devices talk to each other clearer. Like one was speaking Polish and the other Hindi.

   The sun was well past noon, halfway to the horizon, about 4 pm. Sam got out more snacks from the trunk and they ate in silence while watching the warehouse. Each one planning out an escape attempt and what to do right after they got Dean out of there. Where could they take him? How to keep themselves from being followed? What were they going to do if they were caught before escaping? Sometimes they batted ideas back and forth and a rough plan of action was formed. Most of it could be blown apart if they misjudged what the insides of the warehouse looked like. Sam only saw the one large window for the office and beyond that another window for the boss to watch the rest of the hanger. There were very small windows here and there, but all of them had a guard pacing the perimeter. Looking outwards into the fields that surrounded the small hanger and airstrip.

   Since it was obvious that Dean wasn’t going anywhere, Bobby handed Sam the drone and scouted out the far end of the area, close to the treeline and beyond. Seeing what roads lead where, what could be used as roads, where the nearest natural outcroppings of rocks and cliffs were. He got out his cane and had to hike for most of this Intel. He would have volunteered for the drone recon but that was more Sam's forte. All the while, several plans were made and discarded. They needed a fool proof one that was easy enough to remember so they could tell Dean and have him in on it.

   It occurred to them both separately that Dean might not be himself. It had been so long since they'd been together, and this new version wasn't 100% Dean anyhow. The dragon side was more innocent and malleable. It was like Dean was put in a blender with dragon and someone hit the puree button. Heaven only knows what they'll find in there. If there's any 'human Dean' left to save. They would deal with that later. From those few seconds of footage, they knew he was still alive. Healthy enough to stand and flap his wings. His skin looked new and Sam felt the bile rise in his gorge again at the thought of why it looked so new. He found himself clutching the drone to his chest and staring at the warehouse and hanger. Dean was being held in the hanger but Sam could see why everyone called it an empty warehouse. It had once stored airplanes and airplane parts for a long time, and from what Sam was able to look up online, it had been empty for just as long. He found the new owner of the warehouse and the surrounding lands, Michael Swordsman. He had also owned a private lab, Wolfe Labs, about 2 hours away. Two dozen or so employees, head of one of the departments listed as Castiel Novak. A photo of the group in their lab coats at some kind of company get-together. Sam downloaded the photo and looked up a bit of info on the members to prepare himself for the infiltration. Mr. Novak was one of the men that was with Meg Masters when they left the office walking towards Dean. So he might be in charge here too. Or it could be that other guy. Sam didn’t recognize him from the group photo.

   Before Sam could ready his drone to fly in close, he was startled to see that the other guy from the office had left by himself. A big blue truck. Sam jotted down the license plate ID and dialed up the local police station. He had out his fake badge to remind himself what his FBI name was this month. He got the owners name of the truck and found it was Novak's. No help there. The driver was just borrowing the truck. Sam flew the drone up high again. Making sure that the guards weren’t paying attention. He lowered it down to the roof and landed it for a moment. Waiting to see if its mere presence would set off any alarms. Nothing heard from his neck of the woods. He then hovered around the entire roof, finding an air conditioning vent and butting the drone against it to see how resilient the grate covering it was. Not very. The grate nearly squashed the drone but Sam was able to dodge the falling cover. He landed the drone immediately and waited again to see if anyone heard _that_. Some guards looked around, talked to each other and collectively shrugged and kept on walking around.

   Sam exhaled a huge breath of relief as he flew the drone inside the vent. The signal was starting to break up so he wasted no more time getting it past the metal walls. The drone dropped down and once he was in, he made it land on one of the wide cat walks along the ceiling of the main hanger. These catwalks must be used to access the long support chains and cables for the smaller aircraft. The ultralights and hang gliders were stored by hanging in the air over the larger planes on the ground. Sam made sure to keep his movements to the barest minimum because although his drone is small and quiet, there was still a chance that someone would hear its fans whirring. He had trouble seeing anything below the horizon line for the drone, about 6 feet and up from the cat walk to the ceiling and not enough degree's below the horizontal line for under the cat walk. Unless Dean was hanging upside down like a bat, there would be no images of him.

   He switched to audio and heard someone talking. The guy borrowing Novak's truck returned to the warehouse and apparently bought a dozen pies. Sam laughed at that. These guys might be alright. Somehow Dean was able to tell them that he liked pie and they were kind enough to deliver. Sam listened in to Dean eating several then felt his gut wrench at the sound of him throwing them up. Then more eating noises and someone yelling at someone named Balth to stop him from eating anymore and calling Dean the stupidest dragon alive. Even through the insult, Sam detected a note of affection. The speaker cared about Dean rather then putting him down. Sam heard him ordering Dean to put him down. That had him itching to take the drone somewhere lower to see what the hell was going on below his line of sight. Some more sounds of eating and the guy that spoke was clearly pissed off and said he was going to his office. At least Dean didn't hurt him after he picked him up and put him back down once the chewing sounds subsided. So this version of Dean still loved pies enough to ignore his protesting gut and ate all 12. Sam smirked at that. That's still his stubborn brother.

   After the pie incident, the guy with the deep voice was heard asking everyone to leave the building for an hour or simply go home. Sam checked his watch and realized that it was already 5:30 pm. End of their work day. The guards switched outside, the ones that had been outside were now heading for their cars after gathering up their stuff. Sam was grateful they had Bobby drive away from the main road because that was what 99 percent of them were using now. The Impala might have been noticed by at least one of them. After most everyone was gone, Sam noted that there were only 6 people left. It would have been an ideal time to attack but without knowing what exactly lies within those walls, it could turn out to be a suicide mission. They needed more recon information. After a little while, the low battery light started to blink and Sam cursed several times at everything electrical. He had to bring it back to charge it or risk loosing it to the catwalk. Loosing their best chance at finding out the layout of the building. Sam made it take off and dipped its nose down, surprised that he was only 30 feet away from Dean this whole time. He saw several cameras attached to the ceiling and was annoyed that nearly all of them were pointed at Dean, but grateful they weren’t pointed at his landing zone.

   Sam couldn't tell what they were setting up but it didn't seem too important. He spun the drone around, making sure to get as much layout as he could before finding the overhead vent and lifting the drone up and out again. He made it fly in a beeline back to him as the warning tone was going off on his controller. The drone nearly crash landed again and he had to retrieve it from a tree 30 feet up. Muttering more curses against technology, nature, that chattering squirrel, gravity and anything else that came to mind.

   He went back to where Bobby said the Impala was and started charging the drone again, downloaded everything while it was plugged in. He poured over the images and had a notepad next to him, sketching out the layout and marking how far everything was from each other. With the warped view, his best guess would no doubt be skewed. At least its something. They could theoretically fly the drone in again but Sam had a sneaky suspicion not to wait too long for a rescue attempt. This will have to do.

   They had to leave for some supplies once Bobby laid out his plan of action to Sam. They debated some aspects of the plan but overall it seemed viable. They weren’t dealing with fellow hunters of the supernatural so these guys might not know about all the tricks they could employ as a distraction. Sam wasn’t thrilled with some parts, but, for Dean, he was willing to do it. As they pulled into a bed and breakfast that night, Sam could hear Dean's echo in his head once he got the bag of supplies out of the trunk and into their room.

   “Man I hate witches.” Imaginary Dean walked in behind Sam and lounged on the bed closest to the door. “Always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere.”

   Sam nodded, agreeing with his see through brother but not saying anything out loud. That would be hard to explain to Bobby.

   “It's creepy, you know, it's downright unsanitary. And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal? The poor little guy.” See through Dean looked down to Sam's bag and Sam winced at that. He clenched his eyes shut and looked up again. No Dean. Imaginary or otherwise. Just the duffel bag of 'supplies' resting quietly next to the bed. Dean doesn’t have to know what Sam would do to get him back. Bobby offered to grab supper so Sam could get to work on the spells but Sam jumped up instead. He grabbed the keys and let Bobby get the thing set up. Claiming it was Bobby's idea so he should be the one to see it through.

   Once in the Impala again, Sam stared hard at the rear view mirror. Waiting for his imaginary friend to pop back up. No one showed. He sighed in relief and wondered just how far his mind had slipped without his older brother around. No matter, once Dean is safe, he wont have to picture a substitute anymore.

   They slept hard for as nervous as they were for the next day. Their plan all ready to go. Bobby put the numerous bags inside the duffel along with cans of spray paint and a few sheets of paper holding the instructions and sigils to be copied. Sam went to the B&B's laundry room and found a white coat that could pass for something scientist-y and left before anyone noticed. Bobby swung the car around, and after a very quick drive through breakfast they headed out to the warehouse before any of the other workers got there.

   Thankfully they got there just as the other cars were showing up. Sam donned the coat and put his hair in a pony tail to keep it from blocking his peripheral view and Bobby took off his ball cap and put hit firmly on Sam's head.

   At Sam's quizzical look he said, “If your brother recognizes you and gives your identity away on accident we wont make it past the front door. I know he wouldn’t do it intentionally, probably, but we know how shit can go down. This needs a delicate touch and Dean, currently, is anything but subtle.”

   Sam was about to protest but it got caught in his throat. This dragon version seemed to be more base instinctual then his former human self. He looked around the car for anything he could use to mask his scent and found some of the leftover oils they needed for one of the spells. He practically upended the bottle over himself and put out his hands for Bobby's approval.

   “Jus try not to get his attention. If he spots you then tell him to sit tight. We don't have to get him out today, we can try again later if all else fails.”

   “Today, Bobby. I am not gonna go home without Dean again. I failed him for over 5 _months_.” Bobby was about to protest but Sam raised a hand, “We are doing this today. Hell or high water. Get the stuff ready and I'll give you the signal when I'm done getting Dean free.” He waved his phone at his surrogate father and nodded firmly at him.

   “Good luck, Son.” Bobby said and let Sam out. He then took the Impala to the parking lot and got to work.

   Sam managed to blend in well enough with everyone, despite being the tallest one there, and saw Dean laying down in a huge cage close to the middle of the hanger. He stopped cold. Dean was happy enough, looking at everyone disinterestedly, noticing Sam because he was the only one not moving. Sam had to peel his eyes away and fumbled with some papers on a nearby table. Some blood sample results. He kept stealing glances at Dean, each time checking out a different aspect of him and his cage. Shit. There wasn't an obvious door lock to it. Wait, no door either. The bars were welded all the way around. They never intended to take Dean out of that cage. He assumed there would be a door. Were they planning on keeping him in that cage till he _died_? Sam couldn’t stop the feelings of anger roil up and he had to force it down. He searched the desks and rooms for some kind of idea on how to get Dean out of the cage. A blowtorch in one of the side rooms... a winch to pull the bars apart... a jackhammer, _something_. Maybe they had a secret door that wasn’t obvious. Like, a roof hatch overhead to let him out that way in case of emergency. His anxiety was getting the best of him and he started to bump into things more. Cursing himself for being so clumsy. He glanced up at Dean some more, his cage and where the cameras were. Then went back to his search. He startled when a loud chirp came from Dean's cage. He jerked his head up and his eyes met Dean's for a solid 5 seconds before he looked down again.

   “Crap.” Sam muttered. So much for keeping Dean's attention off of him. No one else looked up to Dean's chirp. He needed a closer look at that cage across the room if he's gonna ever figure out what needs to be done to remove the bars. He started to move away from the others, finding a good midway point to stand and pretend to write down his observations on whatever it is they observe, on a stolen clipboard. He chanced another look up at Dean and saw that his eyes were narrowed in like a laser beam on him. Then, a look of clarity in those big greens and Dean's whole demeanor slowly changed. Sam saw his nose flaring again and realized that Dean recognized him by his scent. Not enough oil obviously. Sam walked to the rear of the room again and just when it looked like Dean was going to blow his cover by calling over, Sam raised his hand up quickly and signed the word, 'dont'. Urgently. Dean jolted at that, like someone punched him in the chest.

   Sam couldn’t stop feeling nervous or afraid for his brother. He saw the confusion, pleading in those eyes. Begging to know what was wrong. Why his younger brother didn’t want to talk to him. Sam gave a small smile he hoped was reassuring but Dean just looked sick. Sam was getting even more worried when Dean got this far-away look in his eyes. Like he was falling apart from the inside out. No. Nonono, Dean shouldn’t feel like this is his fault! He can see it plain as day that Dean is blaming himself for Sam not wanting to talk. Sam sees Dean now looking around and doing the same moves that he used to do when out hunting, pretending he wasn’t actually watching Sam's every movement. His huge clawed hand came up to around his shoulder and he signed the letter, 'y' at him before scratching his neck.

   At least Dean knows to keep up the act that they don't know each other.

   Sam adjusted Bobby's hat to have an excuse for his hand up, pointing out several of the camera's. Hoping that Dean still knows what surveillance cameras can do. He then signs over to Dean, 'gotta get you out to come with me now.' and quickly makes his way to the security feed room. In there, it's easier to rewire the feed then he thought it would be. They were still using VHS tapes and players. Well, hell, this shouldn’t take more then a couple minutes. He ignores the chirps and growls outside. Someone is talking to Dean and Dean's growls get louder. He's arguing with someone? Sam finishes up with the tapes, swapping all of today's out with yesterday's in the numerous players. Hitting play on all of them as quickly as possible to reduce the time delay between images. He then double checks that everything looks kosher and hears a loud thump inside the cage. He takes that as a good distraction and sneaks back out the room again. He goes over to the lab area and finds a better lab coat to put on, ditching his old stolen one on the same chair. Looking back once he's out of range to see the man with the boss walk to the security room. 'Mother fucking shit. Dean? What the hell did you do, man?'

   Dean is getting pissed though. Signing at the boss about not liking the cage and then reaching for him. The guy just barely manages to dodge the attack. Sam's jaw dropped at that. Dean looked like he wanted to grab him up and pull him inside. To hurt him? The boss then backs up to one of those lines painted on the floor around Dean's cage.

   Dean looks distressed for a moment, then livid and pissed, Sam saw him sign, 'dont like cage' with his quivering hand and then started to attack the bars with his teeth and hands. Tugging and pushing at them. Some armed men shove past Sam with cattle prods and wave them at Dean and he looks to the other man like he was betrayed. 'you promised no pain'.

   Sam knows now that this guy in charge was probably a good guy. He looked just as upset about the situation as Dean. So odd for someone nearly crushed to death in the dragon's hand. The other guy comes up and whisperers something in his ear. An order must have been given because before Sam can find a way out, everyone in the hanger is being rounded up. Sam checks his vibrating phone for the text and Bobby's number shows up with the words, 'all set out here.' and Sam silences it again before anyone notices. He can feel it vibrate a moment later as all of the people from inside and outside of the warehouse are brought into the main part of the building. Bobby texts him again asking whats going on but he can't text back saying that he fucked up royally. That Novak guy is checking everyone over. He ends up with Sam, looking up at him and then taking off Bobby's baseball cap from his head. Part of him demanding it back, knowing how much it means to his friend. He spits out the first thing that comes to mind for an alias but knows how much that's just crappy planning. Sherlock Holmes, he's not.

   Novak's voice is deep and threatening as he orders Sam to come with him.

   The other guy that was with Novak is at Dean's cage, out of his brother's reach and Dean has this look of panic clearly lacing his flickering expressions. Sam lowers a hand to his side and signs, 'dont worry'. Before they enter the office.

   “Balthazar. Can you come here as well? Gadreel, watch Dean.” Novak called over and someone came up to relieve the guy from Dean's cage. Dean paced uneasily as Balthazar also went into the office. Sam stood in front of the interior window to watch Dean and so that Dean could see him too. Dean was starting to chirp more and become clearly panicky.

   “Please, he's gonna flip out if he doesn't know whats going on.” Sam found himself saying, walking in front of the window. Lifting up a hand and looking past the panes to see Dean lift his hand up to the bars, tugging at them a little.

   “And what is going on? Who are you?” Novak demanded, standing in Sam's personal space and looking fearlessly up at him. Sam actually felt intimidated by this guy who's nearly half a foot shorter then him.

   “I uh, I'm John Holmes.”

   “Well, Mr. Holmes, you're wearing the wrong coat today. Unless your middle name is Nancy.” Balthazar pointed at the name tag and smirked.

   “Don't play with us Azazel. We know you're after him.” Novak growled at him, going for a drawer behind his desk.

   Sam lifted up his hands hastily. “Azazel? You think I'm that bastard?!”

   “One an the same. First the security feed gets tampered with, and then you show up in my friend's coat. I know every single person that works here. I hand picked them myself. You really think I wouldn't notice a _torturer_ in our midst? Dean sure had a strong reaction to seeing you out there. He's panicking even now. He was asking us if he was safe, if he could leave the cage. To _escape_. All because of _you_. How the hell could someone take something so beautiful and turn it into a quivering mess of insecurity and fear? You tortured him mercilessly for _months_! You treated him like an animal! Worse then that!” Castiel shouted angrily. Face heating up and Balthazar had to stand in front of him. Sam just had a second to see the small pistol that Novak had taken from the drawer before Balthazar pulled it from his hand.

   Novak then threw a finger to Dean, “You are worse then any animal for doing what you did to him!You treated him like a common monster!” his rage pouring out of every cell, “He is _not a monster_!”

   “Listen! I am not Azazel!”

   “Then you're _Alistair_!” If Sam was surprised by anything it was how Novak's incredible rage seemed to _double_.

   “Who? No! Look, I'm not here to hurt him! I would die for him!” Sam shouted back, pleading for them to listen. But if they took him up on his offer and shot him dead right now, Dean would never get out. He lowered his voice a little, hoping to lower their knee jerk reactions. “I swear, I will not hurt him. I only want to help. That's why I'm here. To help. I don't know who that Alistair guy is, but Azazel is a bastard that needs to die _bloody_. If you know where I can find him, I will be _more then happy_ to murder the son of a bitch for you.” that seemed to get through to them a little. Balth put the gun away and Novak took a side step back, breathing heavily through his nose to calm down. Eyes still blazing.

   Balthazar was able to speak first, “Ok, we're listening. Where did you come from? How do you know Freckles.”

   “Dean.” Sam said firmly.

   “And how would you know his name?”

   Sam looked out to Dean and saw that he was still chirping mournfully at them. Upset by all the shouting.

   “You called him that name.” Sam said backing up a step to get some more breathing room. While still facing Dean, he startled when he felt a tug at his hair from behind. Balthazar holding out the hair tie like a clue.

   “Tall kid, long brown hair.” he stated to Novak and Novak nodded. Both of their whole demeanors and temperaments seemed to lighten and shift. They looked up to Sam as if trying to see the real him. He was immediately uncomfortable.

   “Listen, I just want to get back to work -”

   “We all know you don’t work here. Stop pretending.” Novak stated, then looked around the office and then to Dean. He went around his desk and flipped a switch on the underside of the desktop. “ _Sam_.”

   Sam sputtered for a second. How the hell did he know his name? He'd never met this guy in his life.

   “That's the reaction I was hoping for!” Balthazar stated happily and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerked it off and backed up some more. Feeling cornered. Balth raised both hands up and grinned. “What took you so long?”

   “Balth, Meg had only just returned to the base yesterday night.” He then faced Sam and said, “What did she tell you?”

   Sam lifted his hands up for Novak to back off. This guy was clearly lacking social cues and etiquette as well as the need to explain what the hell he was talking about. “What is this? What are you talking about?” Sam demanded. He didn’t like feeling like the odd man out. These guys knew him and apparently that Meg lady was supposed to go fetch him.

   Novak squinted at him and tilted his head. “You’re Sam Winchester correct?”

   Sam nodded dumbly.

   “Your brother's name is Dean?” Novak continued, looking for something in Sam's eyes evidently.

   Balthazar piped up, “Who is currently suffering from a bad case of eczema?” He gestured to the dragon still chirping fretfully in his cage.

   “He told you about me?” Sam asked, feeling a mix of pride, fear and anxiousness at these guys knowing the truth.

   “Not in so many words, he told Meg more when he still had his marbles. We tried to get more information from the human side of his scaly hide but he kept on trying to talk to us instead of,” Balth moved his hands around in nonsensical sign language, “ _talking_ to us.”

   “He was quite startled to find out he was a dragon.” Novak added.

   Sam backed up all the way to the wall, looking over to Dean again and making sure he was alright. Dean relaxed a fraction and sat down. Now that he could see more of Sam through the window. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

   The others fell silent. “We are talking about Dean.” Novak said and then lifted up his hand as introduction. “Apologies, my name is Castiel Novak.” and waited for Sam to shake his hand. Sam did so, waiting for the attack.

   The other guy stood next to Castiel and lifted his hand next. “And I'm Balthazar.” he grinned and Sam waited for a last name but it was clear that he wasn’t going to share that much about himself. Unless he only had the one name. Sam noticed that he reeked of smoke, not cigarette or campfire. Oh. One of those. Ok, so he probably only had the one name. Sounded hippy-ish. Didn’t know Britain had hippies.

   “So what are your plans for rescuing Dean?” Balthazar asked, lacing his fingers together and leaning on the edge of the large desk.

   “Ex...excuse me?” rug firmly pulled from under Sam's feet.

   “Dean. I assume you're here to rescue him?” A wide hand sweep towards their mutual friend. “How were you planning on doing that?” he then looked to Castiel, “For a hunter he doesn’t seem all that quick.”

   Sam gawped like a fish. Another text from Bobby. He made sure the other men in the room weren’t going to attack him and checked the last few. 'cars are tagged, roads are ready. Anytime you are ready to save the dragon, princess.' then 'sam, get the lead out.' Sam looked outside and in the far distance, he could see the Impala slowly circling the treeline. Bobby was checking to see where they might exit from if not the main doors.

   He looked up at Castiel and Balthazar again and texted back, 'Hold that thought. They know I'm me.' and put his phone away again. He felt it vibrate not 12 seconds later. He thought, 'radio silence mean anything to you?' towards Bobby who texted yet again.

   “Sam, we don’t have all day. What is the plan?”

   “So you're... you're actually ok with me taking him?”

   They nodded and Balthazar impatiently looked at his watch like he had to be somewhere.

   “When you make your move, we wont have much time to distract everyone.”

   “Gentlemen? Company.” Balthazar announced and they see two of the guards coming over.

   Castiel huffs and opens the door a crack.

   “Sir? The dragon has been exhibiting some strange behavior.” They step aside so they have full view of Dean who is busy licking the bars. Really going to town on them like they are candy canes. Long ropes of drool slide down the iron bars reminiscent of a bulldog with a bone.

   “That it?”

   “Uhh, yes Sir.”

   Castiel rolled his eyes and said, “If you see him pole dancing, get worried, this is, I don't know what that is. Relieving tension apparently. Leave him be. If it calms him down, don’t stop it.” he waved them off and slammed the door shut. He waited a full 30 seconds before saying quietly. “Dean is smarter then I thought.”

   “Why, because he decided that iron tastes like candy? He's lost his mind. You better get out there and talk to him Cassie.”

   Sam watched as Dean continued to peacefully lick wet sloppy stripes along three bars. Starting from his elbow height up to a little over his shoulder. Then going back and doing the same to the ones on either side. After watching, Sam had a sly grin on his lips too. He looked at Castiel and knew he was thinking the same thing.

   “Mind letting the whole tribe in on your powwow?”

   “Dean is getting ready for the great escape.” Sam said and explained further, maybe they didn’t know what he's capable of. “Dean's saliva is flammable.”

   “They removed his sparker teeth though, he can't make a fireball.”

   “Yes, he can. All he needs is a spark, one open flame. We just need to get a book of matches over to him and he can melt those bars himself.”

   “Bloody genius!”

   “Only if the others don’t catch on. Tell us your plan on the way. We have to move now. Cassie, get your purse, we are leaving!” Balthazar announced and started to pack up their belongings into a duffel from the closet. Castiel grabbing everything they had on Dean and important papers, Sam was busy telling Bobby to be ready in one minute. And Balthazar was grabbing the gas masks and a few more firearms they had stashed around the office. Sam was actually impressed. He was not expecting them to be ready for this. He was expecting some sort of resistance but was grateful for the main heads in charge to be on his side. Even if the odds were still against them. The guards being loyal to Michael if push comes to shove. Castiel finished up and shoved the duffel into Sam's arms. He looked up from his text and saw the trench coated figure walk over to the group of scientists and workers. He heard parts of the speech.

   “Michael had sent us a surprise. Mr. Holmes was here to inspect our facility and make sure everything was in tip top shape. I am pleased to say that you all passed!” He lifted up a fist and pumped it into the air. Over Sam's shoulder he heard Balthazar groan.

   “Cassie, not the fist pump. You're 40 for Chuck's sake.”

   “Chuck?”

   “Old old author friend of ours. Thought he was God once. We started to make fun of him for it ever since.”

   Sam nodded as if he understood and debated whether or not to exit the office yet.

   “Not yet.” Balthazar said as if reading his mind. And really, was he that obvious? His hunting skills went a little lax lately. “Cassie is dismissing everyone early for a job well done. Ok, to really sell it, go out there and fire off some motivational junk at them.” He slapped Sam on the back encouragingly and Sam staggered forward, he then took a few more confident strides over to Castiel and threw the duffel over his shoulder. Papers crinkling clearly, Sam winced, but decided to play it up as part of the act.

   “Yes! I must say that Michael and I were pleased with how you reacted to this mock invasion! Very efficient!” he said cheerfully. Sam lifted up his arm too high and someone gasped.

   “Hes got a gun!” someone shouted, pointing to the back of Sam's pants where he'd stashed his colt under his shirt tails. He lowered his hand instantly to cover up its location again. Hefting the duffel over the spot as well.

   “Had to make it convincing!” He said hastily but the murmurs raised into a panic. “Trust me, it's not even loaded. Plastic. Your excellent reaction time to a potential threat stopped my act in its tracks! You all should really be proud of yourselves for not letting an invader get that far!”

   The guards started to surround Sam and said, “Why didn’t we hear of this from Michael?”

   Castiel tried to come to his rescue, hands raised placating. “That was the whole point of this test. To check your reaction time. Isn't it enough that Balthazar and I knew?

   “Why is his duffel full of papers?”

   “This? This is also an audit?” Sam said weakly.

   One of the guards raised a gun to Sam.

   Dean _roared_.

   “Mr. Gadreel! _Stand down_!” Castiel ordered.

   “Not this time, Boss.” Gadreel thought to himself if he can get this guy, take him down, the he'll redeem himself.

 

   And that is moment the war started.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another evil cliffy! But don't worry, next one is already a couple of pages in, I had to cut it here or else the chapter would have been *gigantic* and taken another week to do. 
> 
> Title from the song, This is War by 30 Seconds To Mars
> 
> Take a few minutes to watch this amazing music video for the show that Sevindevils made. Simply breathtaking. Makes you want to marathon the show all over again!
> 
> https://youtu.be/Kp89zk_WRjg?list=PLxG3rD6uCxejOnTD_CXUfM14IrFCYpG_a


	17. Once I rose above the Noise and Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great Escape!
> 
>  
> 
> (A/N gonna pat myself on the back for breaking 200k on this fanfic ;) hope you continue to follow this epic drama for the next 200k! maybe? I dunno, we'll see when we get there! )

Chapter Seventeen:

Once I rose above the Noise and Confusion

 

 

   Sam saw more guns aimed at him and Castiel then a shoot-em-up cowboy film. The guy Novak said was 'Gadreel' looked like he had issues. Great. Sam raised his left hand up and with his right he reluctantly and carefully lifted his gun from his waistband and skidded it across the floor away from them. The duffel went next and Novak started to walk towards Gadreel.

   The guards moved in front of him, blocking his path. He looked incredulously at the face of his employees and then to Sam. He was surprised how quickly he was loosing his leadership. Before he lost all credibility he looked to the rest of the warehouse. Everyone was in movement, mostly fidgeting and nervous as they obviously didn't know what to do. They were scientists, not soldiers.

   “Everyone calm down and exit the building now.” Castiel announced to everyone in the room. His hands were up and out in a calming gesture but his voice demanded obedience. Gadreel looked like he wanted to disagree but with a glance towards the dangerous monster growling and hissing not 30 feet away, evacuation didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Civilians had no place here at the moment. His gun never wavered. Sam stayed still, trying to come up with a plan.

   Thankfully, the majority of the people there still trusted their leader and gathered up their things quickly and started for the main doors. Looking back every few seconds to the tense standoff between Sam with his arms raised, Castiel standing to Sam's right, and the guard with his gun drawn at their heads. Several people looked like they wanted to stop Gadreel and others were siding with him and thinking that this 'surprise visit' was a dangerous hoax after all.

   After a beat, Gadreel couldn’t help but look over at the raging dragon in his cage.

   Dean kept on roaring and thrashing about, banging the bars and trying desperately to reach the tall intruder. To everyone there, it looked like Dean wanted to either kill him or protect him.

   “Inias, Virgil, and Rachel? Put the dragon down. Don't bother with the herb bullets, just shock him till he's stops moving. With how much he's riled up the herb wont work as fast or effective.” Gadreel ordered over his shoulder at the other guards that were still holding the cattle prods. They looked to him, and without hesitation, two of them turned the cattle prods on again and started for Dean's cage. The third guard, Inias, shook his head firmly. He would use the cattle prod as a deterrent only, but what Gadreel was proposing could kill the dragon. Gadreel ignored him, two should do the job just as well. He could see that the monster couldn’t be reasoned with right now. He had to take control of the situation. His reputation depended on it. He would not fail to defend this building and everyone inside it from this dangerous intruder. His past failures, and all those people that chastised and ridiculed him could finally be forgotten. He raised his gun to Sam's head, tilting his own head to line up the shot perfectly even though Sam was only 10 feet away and missing the mark would be nearly impossible. He would make this quick and painless.

   Dean went _insane_.

   Sam's arms shot up, palms out as if they would stop a bullet. “Whoa whoa, ok, calm down there, Buddy.” Sam _did not_ want to have his older brother watch his last family member die right in front of him and being able to do nothing about it. That could destroy Dean. His older brother always blamed himself for everything that went wrong and Sam's death would no doubt be at the top of the list. He couldn't do that to Dean. His gun was gone and Gadreel knew enough to not get too close to Sam. Sam would have to close the distance to do any harm to the armed guard and in that short time, three bullets could be lodged deep in his body. He managed to go into his hunting mode, focus on the objective and nothing else. The wails coming from the cage very nearly broke his resolve. It sounded like Dean was tearing his own throat out in his ragged cries for Sam to run away to safety or get just a little closer so Dean himself could protect him.

   Sam closed his eyes hard to put it all out of mind. “Can I just, make one last request before you blow my brains out?” Sam asked, shooting glances at his brother from the corner of his eye. Sam moved slowly and carefully as he was pulling out a lighter from his chest pocket. He looked around, seeing that nearly everyone else in the huge warehouse had raced outside ever since Dean's first outburst of pure rage. With his other hand still raised, “one last cigarette?” he pleaded, lighting it in one swift motion and going to throw it towards Dean.

   Sam was tackled to the ground in that instant and the flaming lighter landed just a few pathetic feet from him. Nowhere near useful for Dean. Even Dean stopped his tirade for a few seconds to gawk at his brother's wimpy throw.

   Sam cursed in his head as the weight of the man over top of him pinned his arms to his sides while someone took his pocket knife off of him the instant it was felt. The man now holding Sam's right arm behind his back with his knee, was patting down his sleeves and pants looking for more weapons. “Works in the movies.” Sam grunted unhappily.

   Castiel found himself also knocked to his knees next to Sam even though he hadn't made a move one way or the other. Knowing that the trained hunter would have better luck at handling the situation.

   Dean spun around and stuck his long tail outside of the cage and knocked the guy pinning Sam up and away, all the way across the room. He landed again, rolling to a stop as Gadreel's gun went off, firing an inch too high. Sam's head jerked to the cage and he ducked in time for the tail to come back again. Dean was glad his baby brother had some sense of self preservation as he swooped his immense tail the other way and nearly took out Cas but Sam pulled on Cas's closest elbow and made him fall down right next to him as Dean's tail thrashed around. It was more like a club then a precision weapon. Dean angled it so that the sharp spikes that ran all along his spinal column on the top edge leading down to three feet from the end would slice anyone that they hit. _That_ got everyone's attention and most of the few remaining, stood back and out of his reach. Sam and Cas army crawled towards his cage. Not being able to move very fast because they too were scared shitless of the spiked lamp-poll sized whip that took down everyone and everything in its way practically indiscriminately. Dean was watching them the whole time, being careful to keep it over their heads and growled at them to move their asses and get out of the building asap. He huffed at them in irritation. 'Go away! Get to safety!' he growled at Sam, not able to use his hands to sign because he was too busy making sure the heavy rear end of his body stayed up and the front end stayed down. Usually his tail would drag on the ground and rest often, and to hold up all that mass over Sam and Cas's heads was tiresome. He heard movement from his front and he whipped his head and neck around to see what was going on.

   Some guards came by towards Dean's head, guns cocked and aimed at him but he just sneered at them. Knowing that bullets don't affect him. His tail dropped down next to Sam and Cas and he could feel the vibrations in the ground from their foot falls, telling him that his brother and friend were now finally moving towards the office and exit. He nudged one of them lightly to get them to hurry up already. He didn't have a chance to see who it was but out of the corner of his eye and running fast, both of them were nearly at the office. Dean's attention snapped wholly on his attackers now that the others were relatively safe. He roared again and again, banging the bars and snapping his jaws at them all. He pulled his long tail from the outside and while thrashing around, and he was able to covertly shove all of his nest right up against the wet bars, but making it look like he was just going crazy and the movements were disregarded. Straw went everywhere so it wasn't that obvious that the majority of it was now in just the right spot. Every 2 x 4 was placed just so, while he snapped and snarled. Ah, here they come. The _painsticks_. Perfect!

   While he roars, Dean sprays a huge amount of the liquid all around the bars and surrounding area, getting them nicely drenched. He stops himself when it feels like he's about to run out. He'll need some for later no doubt.

   Dean spits threats at the two holding the painsticks. _Never again_. His body shivers at the memories, acting almost as if he was being shocked right now. He juts his head out of the bars directly at the female and that gets the desired reaction from the male. He flicks his tongue out at her, then darts it back in, snapping his teeth closed and hissing violently at her. She is too stunned to move but the man thrusts his painstick forward, aiming for Dean's eyes with a snarl of his own. Dean twists his head to the side and instantly bites down on the pole, the end of it inside his mouth. Nearly swallowing his tongue to keep it from being shocked. The hollow of his mouth is alight with the flashes of electricity coursing at the end of the stick. He jerks his head up quickly but the man has a lucky break and it breaks free of Dean's mouth. Dean ducks back from the bars and the man follows him in with the stick still sparking angrily at Dean's head.

   This is even better!

   Dean is suddenly lightning fast as he snaps his teeth down around the long middle part of it just for the briefest of moments before the end is being forced down to ignite the liquid fire that had pooled at the bottom of the burn pile. The sparks at the end of the stick fly out and a massive fireball practically explodes from the floor on up to the iron bars. The two bipeds were knocked back from the intense force and Dean thrusts his hand through the fire and bars to shove them away just as more angry flames erupt around the area they were just standing in. The fire follows them back and they leap to their feet and run before their cloths catch.

   “Get out of the building! Now!” Inias shouts and helps Hannah to her feet and out of the door.

   The bars start to melt and Dean helps the fire along by spraying even more all up those specific bars and then at the cameras a few times. He pools some of his saliva in his mouth and sets it aflame by dipping his head into the fire, then spits it out at all of the camera's in reach as well as the generator across the room. The sprinkler system was never completely shut off, just the alarms directly over Dean's cage. The alarms elsewhere are shrieking and the sprinkler system obeys the electrical order to dump water everywhere. When the water hits the fire, it ignites small explosions all over the place. Everyone that had stayed to stop the fire now needs to book it out of there _immediately_. Sam was caught up in it, unable to follow Cas to the exit, blocked by a fallen I beam, and Dean sees his little brother being cornered in Cas's office. Cas is over by the doors, trying to get a fire extinguisher from the wall to protect Sam. Its buckle that held the extinguisher to the wall had rusted over the years and wont budge. He wont make it in time.

   Dean pushes with his hands against the bars, they bend slightly. His hands are getting really hot. This is so much hotter then the normal fire baths he used to take. It painfully reminds him of his near death in the military base's fire. The heat almost too intense for him to bear. The metal is melting it's so hot. He pushes again anyway, not enough force. He backed up to the rear of his cage, dimly aware that the entire warehouse had turned into an oven. Parts of the roof are collapsing to the ground far below. Anyone left in the building will broil alive before they even have a chance to get to the doors. Sam's only alive because the office is shielding him from the worst of the flames, but sadly, not _all_. Water gushes from the now broken pipes overhead and act like gasoline to the blaze below. Only able to douse it in the deepest puddles when the water was finally enough to drown out the flames. Not enough water in the whole building to put it entirely out. They'd need a lake's worth at this point.

   Dean backed up all the way to the other end of his cage, squaring his shoulders he stares down the glowing metal bars behind the dancing flames coming up from the concrete itself, burning off the remnants of his liquid. The straw and wood are long gone, the bars wont get any hotter then this. He bows his head a little and kicks off of the rear wall of the cage, charging full on towards the weakest part of white hot metal. He lifts his head out of the way and his chest pounds in and bursts through the still melting bars before they're ready to collapse. He's forced to back up again before his head snaps trying to bully his way past the bars. He ducks his head and neck down, folds his wings in as tight as they'll go and charges again through the hole in the bars, legs fitting through the half melted posts sticking up 4 feet from the cage floor. Hot metal falls all over his skin from above and to his sides as he scrapes past, broken shards melt easily once separated from the bulk and drip and rub onto his scales, molding themselves onto his skin like hot candle wax. He shakes off as much as he can but some of it seeps and coats his scales, cooling and hardening to them in weird stripes and shapes. His hind legs kick off of the bars, trying to get the rest of his huge body through the small hole. His hips getting stuck halfway through. More melted metal fuses with his skin. He kicks about wildly, trying to free his feet from the poles that are fusing and cooling around his toes. He ended up on his side, wings flailing to get himself upright again. The molten iron stings when it reaches between his scales to his soft and vulnerable under layer that is nowhere near thick enough to protect him from the intimate heat. Ever since the skinning at the military base, his current outer layer is practically the only thing keeping his insides from seeing outside. He finally finds his feet and shakes his whole body like a wet dog, bits of metal, some still white hot turn just red hot and fly around him in spiraling shapes. He can't get all of it off and ignores the stinging bite of the metal that remains, fusing to his scales. Much larger metal-like freckles dot and some metal streak down the length of his body. His new metal armor dapples the brown and tan camouflage. He'll worry about that later.

   Dean only has a second to appreciate that after over 3/4ths of this life, he's _finally_ outside of a cage, before he puts it out of his mind and spots Sam ducking back into the office as parts of the building fall down, blocking his escape.

   Dean climbs over a fallen catwalk and slabs of concrete from the roof, and finds Sam hiding his head from the worst of the flames under a desk that is alight just on the outer sides. Dean is having trouble getting his huge body over to the little office. All of the catwalks are now falling, overhead pipes and ducts are forming a web, keeping him from getting to Sam. Dean chirps desperately at him to come closer. Dean has an easier shot at the hanger door then he does to the office. Sam lifts up his head from behind the overturned desk and flaming furniture, but ducks it again as another fireball rolls overhead. The sprinkler from the office giving off one last spurt of water before the water pipe melts outside of the office walls. The flames lick the ceiling, aluminum tiles and light fixtures are falling and melting like horrifying rain over Sam's hiding place. Sam cries out when the heat gets too intense.

   Dean has a brief moment of panic as he remembers this in some of his dreams. Someone with blond hair burning to death on the ceiling. Dean's fear turns to rage and he bullies his way through the twisted and warping metal. The catwalks and pipes don't give in easily but his determination and sheer force bends them to his will. He bites down on several heavy beams, and shoves them aside for his body to muscle through. His wings feel like they're shredding on the jagged metal but he doesn't care. He'd cut his wings off himself if it meant another few feet closer to protecting Sammy. The horns on his head come in handy with pushing the the hottest parts of the metal out of the way, pawing at the debris on the ground to make way for little Sammy. The office is a raging inferno by the time he gets there and pushes at the window of the office and it shatters easily around him. He shoves his huge head inside, horns scraping whats left of the ceiling as he noses the desk from over top of his little brother. Sam is already in a fetal position, protecting his head with his hands. Dean hovers his huge head over Sam to block the still dripping metal. The droplets sting his sensitive nose and he resists the urge to shake it off. He only gives himself one second to assess how to do this before he's scooping Sam up in his mouth. Pulling his head and his brother out of the fireball to safety.

   Sam's cries of pain are hard to listen to so he makes the hardest decision to date, and ignores them. Dean pulls his lips in to cover up his sharp teeth so Sam doesn't suffer even more injury. He hollows his mouth as best he can to make room for Sam's body, who's actually just a mouthful now, with his long soft tongue holding him up and secure from the lower teeth, so Sam doesn't fall out if he moves too much. Something Dean never forgets is how terrifying his teeth can be to little bipeds. Thankfully, at first, Sam doesn't try to stretch out and stays in a tight ball between the teeth of the slightly opened mouth, trusting Dean not to accidentally swallow his little brother. Sam is just a bit too long for Dean's mouth. After Dean pulls his head from the office, Sam feels like his skin and very bones are ablaze from the intense heat that surrounds him out of the office and into _hell's inferno_. He may trust Dean, but his body betrays him as he starts to panic and flail about. The heat is just too much. It's everywhere!

   Dean lifts his head up so that Sam doesn't get burned from the fire all over the floor and takes a wing and covers Sam's exposed body up with it. Cradling his mouth and baby brother in its loose fist as a second shield. To an outside observer, it looks like Dean's stuffing his face with a wingful of popcorn.

   Sam, for his part, is somehow able to get a grip on his mind and body, now feeling something around him keeping the worst of the heat off of him, he can think a little clearer. Doesn't stop the shiver that courses through him when he finally opens his eyes to see a throat as big as his body, constricting and pulsing in time with the heartbeat that he feels more then hears. Dean is trying so hard not to breath out of his mouth in case he spits out more of his liquid flame starter. No sense suffocating his brother on this rescue mission. He still can't stop himself from salivating though, it's completely beyond his control. Something potentially eatable, and _disturbingly delicious_ is currently in his mouth, squirming around, and his body reacts to it against his will. It's all he can do to keep himself from taking that next step and making the first bite. Close his teeth around those fragile bones, and savor the juicy marrow after the soft popping break of bone. So easy. _Too_ easy. Why _not_? His instincts are screaming at him ' _yes_ ' and his mind is screaming right back, ' _NO_ '. His tongue is caught in the middle of the battle and grips Sam's chest tighter.

   He should have eaten breakfast.

   Sam is thankfully unaware of Dean's struggle and as soon as there's space to do it, he shifts around and sticks his head and shoulders out of the mouth to finally get a breath of slightly less tainted air. It's smoke but it will take a little longer to suffocate in it then Dean's toxic fumes lingering everywhere inside that maw. Sam brings his arms out as well to hold himself up from Dean's sharp lower jaw by grabbing a firm hold of the bridge of his nose with both hands. The need to see what's going on overriding the need to keep himself safe. His legs are bowed out and crossing at the calves so his feet can find purchase on the inside of Dean's other lower lip. And if Sam hears the hum of someone enjoying a fine steak, he sure as fuck doesn't acknowledge it. Not to himself or to the slick anaconda tongue that is moving around his chest like it can't decide what to do. Hold him up safely, or pull him deeper into the throat. Sam can't help but think, 'Dean, I sure as shit hope you ate breakfast.' That's the other reason why Sam had to get his head out of that mouth, if he stops looking at it, it can't hurt him. The logical side of his brain laughs at him and he just ignores the shit out of that too.

   Dean switches wings when Sam shifted. His right wing cupping around his mouth to protect Sam from the growing flames. Why does Sam always have to put himself in harms way? Where's the sense in sticking your head out? Can't he just let his older brother take care of him? Dean wants to growl at Sam but that might end up being too terrifying for his passenger, so he just let's Sam do whatever he's gotta do as he tries to find a path out of the continuously falling debris. Nothing but smoke and flame and metal. But there, over to his right is a low rectangle of light. Not churning and melting, a steady opening where the air doesn't feel as thick. The hanger door is halfway open and Dean pushes his way over to it and ducks his head down and closer to his chest, holding Sam a little tighter with his wing so he wont fall. He locks his jaw up to keep it from closing on Sam's body as he uses his horns to push his way through the hanger door. He is being more careful to not bite down or drop Sam's body, then he is about where he steps. A huge crash sounds out behind him as he belly crawls out of the low hanger door. His wing has to let go of Sam to push against the ground on both sides of his body when the spikes along his spine get caught on the half lowered door. He struggles to free himself as bipeds all around are now fleeing from him in terror. ' _Good. Back up_ you annoying insects _._ ' he grumbles at the lot of them.

   The only bad thing about this plan to carry Sam around in his mouth, is now his little brother is covered head to toe with the flammable saliva. The whole time, Dean tried very very hard to keep all flame away from his mouth and moves around the area to find a good place to set Sam down, further away from the building and everyone then strictly necessary. He finds a patch of new grass and a single tree near the parking lot. He gently lowers his head all the way to the ground and tilts it to the side so Sam can stand up easier, and opens up wide, remembering to unravel his tongue from Sam's chest last minute when he feels Sam tug at it to untangle it himself some shuddering coughs vibrate around Dean's mouth.

   A harried looking man in a trench coat is approaching quickly like he's being chased by a pack of wild dogs. Cas is panting heavily, holding a blanket under his arm as he ran the whole way over. Ready to douse whatever flames the pair might have attracted. His eyes goggle at the sight of Dean's form. Nearly his whole body is covered head to toe in soot and spots and streaks of metal, nearly black as night from the burns and fire residue. Only his mouth was free of the ash and smears, and he soon found out why when Sam was gently lowered to the ground. Dean tilting his head to the side to let Sam stand on his own feet before releasing him entirely from his mouth. Dean noses at Sam's side as his unsteady little brother goes immediately into a crouch, coughing and hacking up the smoke from his lungs and trying to find a breath of fresh air. He looks like a sick wet dog. Dean chirps an apology for not getting to him sooner. Unable to protect him, he feels like he failed even though his brother is only alive and still breathing outside of that furnace thanks to Dean's strength and care.

   Dean accidentally gleeks at him once he's staggering on two feet again. He shoots Dean a withering look that turns into a fake exasperated huff. Some lingering coughs were held back as much as possible. Sam takes a few deep breaths to clear his lungs a bit better and Dean leans in just a fraction closer to see if he can sniff out Sam's health and thoughts, and not just his feelings. Sam isn't happy about the unintended spit projectile. He licks the bulk of it from Sam's chest. Poor dude looks like a dog's chew-toy.

   “Jerk.” Sam breaks into a wide grin and punches Dean's nose that is level with his head. Dean finally closes his mouth and nose nudges Sam's knees until Sam falls forward over Dean's snout. He feels the rumble underneath his hands and knows that's Dean-speak for 'Bitch'.

   Castiel helps Sam up and away from Dean's soot covered head and pats Sam down with the blanket, trying to absorb as much of the liquid as possible but Sam just stills his hand. The celebratory moment of finally seeing Dean free again is marred by the sounds of shouting and angry voices giving orders to take the dragon down at all costs. Sam finds his voice again, though strained and cracking, “It's ok, we have to go! Don't worry about this, about me. Bobby should be here – there he is!”

   The Impala comes screaming out from behind the warehouse, several cars following it. Ok, no one was expecting them to be so quickly prepared for a car chase after the building started burning. Some gunshots were heard from the pursuing cars and Dean unfolded his wing instantly around the two on the ground. Bobby nearly drives right by them but tires start to screech and protest the sudden turning and breaking when Bobby sees Dean for the first time in months. The Impala fishtails for just a moment before finally coming to a rest 30 feet away.

   “Holy hell did he get big!” Bobby exclaimed through the open driver's side window.

   “Told you.” Sam stated smugly, and flung open the passenger side door, ushering Cas to get in as well behind his seat.

   Balthazar finally disentangled himself from the guard holding him hostage with a swift punch to the asshole's face when Dean first stood to his full height outside of the hanger with some poor sap hanging from his mouth. Too far away to see who it was, he pushed his way around the crowd of people that were all rushing to different places. Balthazar immediately hunted around for Castiel in the crowd and by the time he rounded the building, he saw the dragon again and the small group of people standing nearby. He figured that if Cassie was anywhere, it would be with that group, so he quickly made his way on over.

   Bobby hit the gas as soon as Cas was in but at everyone's insistence, and Dean actually leaping in front of the Impala, Bobby was forced to hit the brakes again just a few seconds later to avoid crashing into Dean's tree trunk legs. Demanding to know why when a random guy wearing a v-neck shirt and jeans ran up to the car and flung open the other rear door and leaped in like he owned the place. Bobby turned to glare at the stranger and noticed that the guy in the backseat that Sam let in, seemed happy to see the stranger. Must be an ally. Bobby's attention went to the huge legs that started to circle around the car, unable to see much more from this low angle then soot coated legs and wingtips and a curving tail that practically wrapped itself protectively around the parked car. He could feel the rumble of the foot falls and heard a violent hiss aimed towards the approaching cars. Good to know that this living weapon was still on their side. A hand was thrust forward from the backseat and Bobby twisted to look at it's owner.

   “Hey! Nice to meetcha! I'm Balth. Dean's best friend.”

   Bobby ignored the hand and went back to looking for a way out of the crowd of panicking people and trucks that were circling them like buzzards. Dean must be out of fire because the cars and trucks were well within its reach.

   Cas rolled his eyes at Balth but was thrilled that he made it out of the warehouse.

   As the Impala roared back to life, Dean started following after. He kept his head close to the passenger side, to Sam and Cas as he also kept an eye out over the car and growled and roared at anyone that so much as looked their way. His wings were stretched up high in a dominance display that no one else here could even hope to challenge. One truck got too closer for his liking and he rounded on it _ferociously._ Smashing his hands into the hood and forcing it into the ground with his weight alone. He dared the driver to make a move and snorted smugly at the twin shocked expressions on the faces inside. The other trucks and cars kept back, not wanting to be the first to actually attack. They'd need to do it all at once to get anywhere. Unfortunately for them, the majority of people were more interested in fleeing for their lives then attacking the dangerous monster that had just escaped.

   Still, there was about a dozen cars and trucks that were dogging their trail, picking up those that were waving guns in the air and pointing at the dragon. Sam knew that there would be a huge fight on their hands if they stayed any longer. The backseat passengers sounded worried and were looking all around at the increasing mob. Sam sympathized with them, up until 30 minutes ago, these same people were their coworkers and friends. Now it was anyone's guess who was still on their side. If anyone.

   “Don't worry! We planned for this scenario.” Bobby grinned and drove over a spray painted sigil taking up the entire width and ditches of the street. Dean passed over it, only giving it a glance, but the cars that were following them suddenly stopped cold in its huge circle as if they were stuck in an invisible fish bowl.

   “It's a 'stay put' spell! I tagged every one of the cars and vehicles with it and Sam and I finished up every road and flat surface leading out from that hanger!” The gruff older man laughed and was thrilled that it worked. Dean saw the weird symbol spray painted further on down the road. Most likely for whatever cars were able to make it past the first circles. They were strategically placed in spots where the pursuers couldn't just drive around. Thick copse of trees and rocks lined the roads on either side for long enough stretches so they'd have to back up the entire convoy hundreds of yards to find a way around. Giving the Impala and dragon some much needed time to escape. The sigil didn't stop the ones that went on foot though, just the vehicles they were in. Numerous gunshots were heard behind them and Dean flared out his damaged wings to protect the car as they sped along.

   Castiel grinned at the dragon keeping pace behind their car. “Dean Winchester is saved.” he said aloud happily when they get far enough from the burning building, honking horns, and shotgun blasts. The road was finally quiet enough to hear nothing more then the Impala's engine, and Dean's thumping footfalls. Sam's window was down the whole time as he watched his brother's head hanging over the trunk of the car. He was long enough that he could still run over and behind them and not have to worry about running into the black classic. Sometimes he would stretch his wings out to loosen up the muscles, but the tears started to burn after a few minutes. Long holes in the wing membranes would take time to heal. If they could heal. Dean honestly didn't know. Even though he was afraid of heights, he was still stuck with these huge wings that needed exercise.

   The Impala picked up some speed, easily clearing the distance to the next treeline. They were taking an alternate route out of the area then the main road. A dirt track that had overgrown over years of disuse. Deep potholes threatened to ground them but Dean was following behind and would give the car a nose nudge to get out of the deep hole or trench. Better then a tow-truck, Dean was far faster and seemed to know just how much to push so it wouldn't pop the front tires with the sudden thrust forward. The car got to a smoother patch of road and sped up considerably. Dean started to jog along, then run as the car picked up even more speed. Dean's muscles were burning at the strain. He hadn't run in such a long time, over half his life as a dragon, and even then it wasn't for more then a few miles. His muscles were weak and he staggered after the car after just 20 minutes of running. The others noticed right away and worried that this whole rescue attempt would end before they'd even gotten a handful of miles away.

   Sam scooted out the window a little, sitting on the door's armrest and holding onto the roof of the car as he studied the panting dragon. Dean looked even more emaciated now then before. Stripped bare of muscle mass and only running now on fumes. “Dean?”

   Dean hated hearing that tone coming from Sam. They'd only just been reunited but he'd know that tone anywhere. Sam was worried. He didn't trust Dean to be strong enough to make it. Dean grunted at him and pushed himself faster. Bobby had to speed up a little or risk being run over by the huge forepaws. “Idjit.” he grumbled, looking at the rear view mirror at the uneven footfalls. Massive wings now drooping.

   Cas gave a quizzical look to the driver, then back to Dean. He just now realized how much Dean was in trouble. He had no idea how to fix the problem so he said the first positive thing to come to mind to ease some of the tension that was building up. “Michael wont be able to follow us for a while. He doesn't exactly have enough funds for a helicopter so at the moment we are home free.” he gave a nod and Balth nudged him in the side. A reassuring gesture that was needed. “So um, if you don't mind me asking... where is 'home'?”

   Bobby and Sam shared a look when Sam bent forward a little to look in through the windshield.

   Bobby answered, “Let's just get somewhere safe for the night and discuss tomorrow.”

   Now Castiel and Balthazar looked at each other. It was only 2 pm. Surely they weren't planning on traveling all day with Dean in that state?

   Dean huffed along, limbs aching at the lack of use for most of his life and then to be exerting so much energy and the anxiety and uncertainty of the future and just everything made him dizzy. Bobby started to slow down as Dean stumbled. Panting heavier then he had months ago when he'd fearlessly taken on 5 armored trucks. Now just a light run was enough to wind him. Everyone in the car felt the same pang of sympathy towards their mutual friend. Dean couldn't stop his body from staggering to the side of the road, head swooping to the left and right as if lazily swatting flies. He spots something and makes his way over. Bobby tried to follow but the Impala was just too wide and he honked the horn at the dragon to stop. Dean woozily looked over his shoulder at them and motioned with his hand for them to follow.

   “Dean! We can't! The car's just too wide to fit between the trees here, let's stop somewhere further down where we can join you. Sound good?”

   Dean kept on panting this whole time and licked his dry lips. He looked over the car and trudged back over to them. Standing overhead and then nudging it with his knuckles. He ducked down and peered inside the car which to him was about the size of a two foot long toy truck. Probably weighed as much as a heavy suitcase. He took a minute more of rest and then signed, 'everyone out'.

   After a moment, one by one, they exited the car and Dean waved for them to move back. They only took a few steps. Dean sighed at them, rolled his eyes and picked up the nearest person and forcefully moved them back 15 feet. Sam cursed the entire time of being airborne and then punched Dean's fist angrily when Dean let him go again. Every body else stiffened under Dean's glare and before he could reach for another, they all backed away quickly from the car as if it was going to explode. Dean nodded, mitigated, and looked inside the car again.

   “What are you looking for?”

   Dean shook his head and walked closer to it, using his right hand he put his 3 foot long fingers under the driver's side and gingerly started to tilt it onto its other side. Testing its weight and listening as bags shifted inside and landed on the floorboards. He looked in again, even stuck his nose in through the open door and inhaled deeply through his nose. It could barely fit inside the door but whatever he was looking for either was there or wasn't but that was ok, because he nodded, satisfied. He looked up again at the people gathered in a loose circle and gave the facial equivalent to saying _stay back_ , before he leaned over it more clinically. Assessing. Everyone gasped as Dean's other hand snaked under it on the passenger side, leaning on his knuckles until his wings slammed down on both sides of his body. His left one accidentally knocking over a hapless tree. His hands moved forwards and backwards, lifting a little one way then the other before finding the balancing point and then picked the whole damned car up into the air. All 18 feet, bumper to bumper was now hovering in the air as easily as lifting a heavy suitcase. Dean grunted in exertion and then pulled it closer to his chest, the whole hood disappearing around where his belly button would be if he had one. He was using his wings as a spare set of legs as his hands lifted up the car entirely off the ground. He pulled it back to his own center of gravity, hind feet closer to the center of the car as he scooted back from the narrow trees lining the road. Clearing the shorter vegetation with relative ease. He turned his head and found the most amenable path and tilted the Impala to its drivers side to fit it past a few large trees. Turning around with the car had been tricky but having to back up while carrying it would have been even harder. His wings folded in just enough to get past the trunks themselves before landing again with enough force and weight behind them to make everyone stumble on the ground. The weight of the car and the dragon in each step left deep impacts in the dry ground. Hopefully, no one would see the pattern in the footprints and wing wrists to even have the faintest guess what made them.

   They waited to see what Dean was doing before making a move. Dean got a half dozen steps away before he turned his head and long neck back around and raised an eyebrow at them. He couldn’t exactly use sign language but Sam read him well enough. Even after all this time and every single thing that they'd done to his older brother, he still had a connection to him. Knowing what he was saying through nothing more then facial expressions. As limited as Dean's were in that new body.

   “Dean wants us to follow him.” Sam announced and started walking after his huge brother into the woods.

   “Better not have broken my laptop.” Bobby grumbles as he starts following too. If he'd known what Dean planned, he would have gotten out a few bags from the car to lighten the load. Worried more for Dean's well being then if anything was damaged. The car juttered with every step the wings aided with and Dean too looked uncomfortable using them instead of his normal forearms. The webbing and fingers on the wings flexed every once in awhile to relieve some of the building tension. His wing palms and thumbs were never meant to hold up his front end on the ground, never mind his front end _plus_ a 1967 Chevy Impala. Nature just wasn't expecting _that_ one.

   After another 500 feet into the woods it looked like there was a small creek ahead. Dean rested the Impala onto the ground. Trying to hide how hard his breathing had gotten when Sam walked up to his right side.

   “I'll check it out alright?” Sam motioned to the creek and then the surrounding areas. He waited for Dean to back up from the car a step or two and popped the trunk. He noticed Novak and Balthazar coming up behind and had a proud grin at their obvious admiration to the variety of weapons in the Impala's trunk. There's a conversation for when he gets back. He takes a few minutes to change into some cloths that aren't charred and black from smoke. His skin looks a little red but not as burned as it felt in the warehouse. The cool air is really helping with the few first degree burns. 'Could have been worse.' he thinks to himself and pats Dean's arm as he passes it. 

   Dean lifted up his head, easily seeing farther then everyone here, but the dense tree foliage got in his way. He huffed and rested onto his side and signed, 'take your time'. His arm that was on the passenger side of the Impala was now practically hugging it. Sam's open window gave his nose a chance to sniff out the interior at his leisure. Memories were coming back in waves. A little ripple that gathered strength and became a small wave until it turned into a white cap and then blessedly a crashing tidal wave that curled in and around itself, solidifying the memory in his psyche. He inhaled the scents around his prize and grinned. This was _his_ car. And here comes his baby brother. He must have dozed because the sun was in a different spot now. Not too far from earlier but he was upset with himself for a moment for sleeping on the job. The others were already done setting up a fire ring and he could hear them gathering some kindle.

   Sam tried to sneak up on his brother but Dean heard him a long ways off. He feigned sleep right up until the instant Sam was about to tug on his side fan ear. Flipping it quickly and knocking Sam's hand away with a startled yelp. “Lucky guess.” Sam stated, arms folded and Dean tilted his head to Sam's side, pinning his feet to the ground and flapped his ear again. He let him up just as Sam was about to fall backwards and thumped his head on the ground, looking up into his baby brother's hazel eyes with nothing but fond memories behind his own green irises.

   Sam grinned and patted Dean's dirty nose that was only a couple feet away. Ignoring the black smears that he just moved around and the metal glint that shown from the spots of iron and aluminum that welded themselves onto his skin. He hid his surprise at seeing them, more distracted at the contented purr Dean couldn’t swallow up before Sam caught it. Sam, being the awesome brother he is, decided to let that one go and went to the Impala to get something.

   The others had been talking while getting their campsite ready. Now that the imminent danger was past they could finally introduce themselves properly. Bobby was wary at first but warmed up to them well enough. Only Sam could tell that much though, Bobby liked to give off the 'gruff old codger' impression to throw people off just enough to show their cards. Two could play at that game and Balthazar and Bobby were in a silent battle of wits to get the other one to divulge more info.

   Castiel didn't give a rats ass what they did. Dean was safe, he and Balth were safe. And it seems that everyone was able to get out of that burning warehouse before that big explosion. He wouldn’t even know what to say to Michael when he gets wind of this. The big boss probably already had. There's likely a manhunt out for the lot of them. At least Dean's smart idea of going into the woods would throw them off their trail for a hot minute. He and Bobby were the first to catch on to what Dean was doing with the car and started to disguise the spot where they'd gone off road, and the Impala had gone _off_ _ground._ Balthazar kept watch over the slumbering dragon while the others were away on their missions.

   While Dean slept, Balth was sitting quietly, hoping not to wake his friend. Poor kid had been through more then anyone he'd ever met. The way the three hunters acted gave him a new kind of respect for those people that were brave and selfless enough to risk their own lives to protect those that had no idea that there were even monsters out to get them. And all without getting a single fiver! Much less a, 'Thanks for saving the town from that Rugaru.'

   Balthazar quietly got up from the fallen tree that doubled as his perch and found a book that was stashed under the driver's seat. He pulled it out and had a look of disgust cross his face when he read the cover. Well, at least tried to read the cover. It was in some kind of dead language but from the look of it, it exuded the feeling of everything evil in this world. He flipped through some pages. The dog eared ones first, and there were what looked to be ingredients for a dinner. He read the English translations that were on slips of paper wedged in-between and it had the corresponding page numbers to the dogeared ones. Not dinner. A bloody _witches spell_!

   Balthazar shot a look up at Bobby and Cas. What in the hell did they get themselves into? Were they really witches? Man-witches, warlocks? What was the politically correct term again? Who cares. Some Harry Potter stuff going on here. He flipped a few more pages and one of the English notes caught his eye. It seemed to be a handwritten letter that was half folded up with 'DEAN' written on the front. He turned over the care worn sheet, noticing that it was probably opened and shut several times, stuffed in pockets and God knows where. Some lines crossed off so thoroughly he couldn't even tell what had been written. After making sure no one was looking, he opened it up.

   'Dear Dean.

   I honestly don't know what to say. If you're reading this, you're human again. ########### or at least, human enough to understand written words again. Congrats! I am thrilled you made it this far. I really am. And to me that makes this worth all the trouble.

   But, if you're reading this, it also means that I'm not here anymore. That something went wrong in the spell. I hope Bobby is still around, I know he probably wrote you a letter too. Just know that none of this is your fault. It _isn't,_ so shut up and let me finish. #####################################

   The spell we used is on page #### 343 of the 'Reversing Witch Curses' book you found this in. I know it wasn't a    witches curse that got you into this mess, but Bobby and I believed this one part could help cure you. It's not foolproof, and since I'm not here to say this, you can kick my ghost's ass for fucking it up. ################### that is, if there's still something left of me to tie my spirit to this world. If there is, find it and give me a hunter's funeral please. I don't want to haunt you, I want you to move on and live your life. Find that house with the picket fence and _retire._ Our family deserves at least one happy ending. ######################### If you're human again right now, just know that I already got mine. Uh, if not, find out what we got wrong and please _try again_. Bobby and I searched for months for a cure and it was either this one, or one that we were not willing to try first. It's in the other book, page ### 128. It requires a massive blood sacrifice and ################# I know it's not really our style to go after humans, I'm just letting you know it's the only other spell we found that could bring you back. Rufus Turner figured out what happened to you on his own. He's on our side but currently overseas. An Okami gave him the slip and he doesn't like to loose a hunt he considers personal, this one killed Bobby's neighbor that he ###### had a crush on.  > _January 24th, he found it and killed it, he's heading back now._

   He promised to look after you and to give you sanctuary. No matter what body you're still in. You know where his cabin is, and Bobby and I made sure it's fully stocked with dried meat and supplies. He said to -

 

   Balthazar saw more written on the paper but had to hastily fold it back up into the book again as the others were coming back from the hike. Dean took a deep breath with huge eyelids fluttering, seeming to be waking up, so Balth got up and joined Cas and Bobby as they started to gather up more wood for the overnight hours. All throughout, his eyes kept wandering back to the book in the backseat. Once the others were asleep, he could read more of the translated notes that littered nearly every page. More on the ones that centered around that spell. Maybe all they needed was a fresh pair of eyes in the spell book? A better way of getting Dean back to normal. One that didn't require the threat of Dean loosing his brother to it. Obviously Sam thought that was a good possibility because he wrote a goodbye letter. How many hunts did they go on? And this one is the _succeed or die_ trying in their minds? Bloody hell.

   His phone buzzed at him and he startled at that. Wes with news of a burning building that could not be contained. The surrounding fields were ablaze and it looked like the forest was threatened by it too. Wes asked if he knew about it. If this was a clue where the mother was being kept, knowing that Balthazar and Castiel had been looking for the mother's location for awhile. Balth was sworn to secrecy to not tell anyone, not even Wes or Brandon where the hanger was located exactly. They knew the general location, 'Montana' but that was it. Knowing the state didn't exactly narrow the search results that much.

   Balthazar's thumb hovered over the 'reply' button. Should he try enlisting his friends in on this rescue mission? Could they be trusted not to turn this into a three ring circus in the paranormal community? He'll have to discuss this with the others first. He sent back instead, 'keep me posted on it, darling. it sounds interesting.' and got back a thumbs up emoticon. He thanked his own paranoia for setting up Castiel's and his own phone to be untraceable. That would put a screaming halt to their covert escape.

   He jerked his head up to see Dean playing around with Sam. When the hell did the tall kid get back? Dean must be feeling a little better because the big guy is now lifting a yelping Sam up off the ground by the back of his flannel.

   “Dean! You _suck_ lizard breath!” Sam cried out and tried to reach up past his head to Dean's lower teeth that had a death grip on his collar. “You're gonna tear it!”

   Dean snorted through his nose like he disagreed and shook his head back and forth a little, proving his point. Balth had to chuckle at that. Sam was more concerned about his lumberjack shirt then he was about Dean dropping his ass from 20 feet up. Sam spat out some colorful idioms and Dean retorted by putting Sam onto his side and folding up that wing all around the younger brother. Sam punched away at the membrane and Dean yawned loudly like he couldn't hear or feel the punches and kicks as he got to his feet and swaggered over to the creek. One punch hit a tear in his wing and his whole body stiffened for a moment before he caught himself and started to drink from the water.

   “Dean? What is that?” a muffled voice asked with a note of concern and confusion from inside the folded wing. Dean could feel small fingers probe around until he found the hole. Sam shifted around and even though Dean tightened the wing fingers, the biped was still slippery enough to face the wound. He must not be able to see much because he was feeling it out with both hands now. Dean couldn't keep himself from twitching as painful nerve endings were firing left and right down his wings and to his spine. Just stop _messing_ with it! Damn that one _hurt_! He didn't want to show Sam just how much so he found a patch of thick grasses and flowers and unceremoniously dumped Sam into them. Folding up his wings as tight as he could and stalked off stiff legged and ticked off.

   “Dean! What the hell, Man? Why didn't you _tell us_ you were injured? Let me see it.” he demanded, jogging over to catch up to the dragon. Dean huffed at him and shrugged. Sam could tell that he was trying to downplay the wound. Shit. Maybe there was more then one under all that dirt and soot. “Into the water. Now.” he ordered, pointing to the deeper part of the creek.

   Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. What the hell is this? Sam thinks he can order him around? Dean shook his head at him and walked across the creek. Sam would have to wade through it if he wanted to get closer. It didn't look too deep, probably shoulder deep. Current was fairly slow. He started to strip and saw Cas making his way down to the creek too.

   “What's going on? We heard shouting.” he asked, getting closer. “Dean? You alright?”

   Dean turned and saw Cas try and make his way closer to where he was on the other side of the creek. Sam was now kicking off his shoes and going for his pants. He thought to himself, 'Man is my little brother stubborn. Probably get hypothermia from this chilly water. Then who's gonna warm him up? Not me, I'm cold blooded. And it's not like Cas or Balth or Bobby would cuddle up with the tall kid.' Funny thing was, Dean knew this wasn't Sam putting himself in harms way just to coax Dean back, he really was just trying to get closer to inspect the wounds. He had no concern for himself.

   “Sam! You can't be seriously thinking about going into the water! You'll freeze to death!”

   “I'll be fine. Dean needs his wing inspected,” Sam looked across the creek and yelled louder, “ _and he wont do it himself_! My idiot brother thinks his needs come second to mine. Bull. Shit.” Sam announced and started to walk into the creek. He shivered immediately. Giving off a few whoops into the still air as Dean growled in irritation. Sam had to swim a little, it was deeper then he thought going the way he went and the current pulled him downstream just a little. Enough to give Dean a heart attack and he walked alongside the creek, moving faster and closer, and then slowed when Sam was able to touch bottom again and keep moving to the shore. That clinched it for Dean. Sam wasn't playing this up at all, he could have _easily_ faked a drowning to get Dean closer but he didn't. Dean bowed his head over next to Sam for him to hold onto and after a punch to Dean's chin he glared at the dragon. “Don't do me any favors, Dickhead. You shouldn't have sulked off in the first place.” He then slogged his way up to the grassy area and sat down heavily on a large rock. Rivulets of water running down his now pale white skin. He wished he could just stop shivering. It was totally messing with the 'man in charge' act he was putting up. “N-now get your ass over-r here and show me that h-h-hole in your w-wing.” he folded his arms to look like he meant business but it doubled as a means to warm up his frostbitten fingers.

   Dean shook his head in exasperation and then as an answer.

   “ _Dean!_ ” no less then twelve meanings to that one syllable, “I d-didn't nearly k-kill myself to have you act like a petulant seven year old!”

   “Month.” a voice from across the river shouted over. At Sam and Dean's twin looks of confusion they heard Cas explain, “He's about seven months old right?” Huh. Yeah. Guess he's right. Cas made a motion that loosely meant, 'well there ya go.' and walked along his side of the creek till he got to Sam's clothing. “Is he planning on staying the night over there? We got the fire going. And Mr. Singer said he found a deer trail.”

   “No. Dean doesn't g-get dinner until he gets looked at. Don't show him-m anything.” ignoring the fact that Dean could pick up any trail without their help. Sam looked up to Dean's glare, matching it. “Wings. Open.”

   Dean stuck his tongue out at Sam and walked into the creek again. Seeking out the deepest part and then splashing about with his wings and feet, giving off a similar yowl like Sam had uttered when he got into the freezing water. Sam had to block a particularly large spray of water before he finally understood the wet temper tantrum. Dean was taking a _bath_. As the water turned murky and dark, Dean became lighter and his natural colors came back. The metal spots and streaks were more noticeable now and Sam shuddered at the sight. Knowing how hot metal would have to get to melt and mold onto another surface. Dean would have to shed his skin to get rid of it. And that wont be for awhile since this layer is the only real one he has right now. Can't just pluck off the metal coated scales because what's underneath is just a thin membrane that keeps his internal organs from spilling out. Sam had to hold back vomit again, reminded over and over the torture his brother kept having to endure. At least the metal didn't seem to be hindering Dean's movements at all. If anything it was like a second skin in those places. This might actually be a good thing. Wait. No. Never mind. The shiny aluminum and iron would bounce sunlight all around in the woods, lighting him up like a disco ball at prom. And to get the spell to work, he can't have anything that is not organic, things that he wasn't 'born' with. All that metal might mess up the spell and Dean would end up looking like a cyborg or some shit. They'll have to get every inch of it off before then.

   Dean looked at all of the metal bits and started to pick at them, only getting a few of the thicker clumps off without damaging the scales. Sam walked closer once Dean seemed calm enough, more focused on picking then splashing. He said almost conversationally, “Bring it over here, let me have a go at it.” he pointed to the wing with the now obvious gash in it and Dean stretched it out without another thought. The hole was one foot long and 3 inches wide. Blood had long since congealed and the edges were somewhat healed already. Some fresh blood seeped out when he washed away part of the scab but Sam figured it would heal with time. He gently inspected the rest of the wing where he could reach and got back into the water to get closer to Dean's shoulder. Dean heard a rapid clicking sound and looked under his wing to see Sam's teeth chattering away while his now blue fingers were tracing a long line of metal along his side. Dean took a side step away and before Sam could protest he stuck his long nose underwater and dipped it through Sam's legs, forcing his little brother to straddle his nose and lay down on his head. Sam's arms shot down and grabbed the first thing he could grip and Dean huffed a laugh, raising his eyebrows to raise Sam's arms a little to see where he was going. His ears twitched under Sam's grip but the trip didn't last more then a few seconds before Dean was across the creek and dropping Sam off next to his cloths. Dean then took a few steps down river and shook off all the excess water from his body. The spray went everywhere and Cas was heard laughing at the sight.

   “Man, Dean, it's so _good_ to see you out of that cage and clean!” Cas cheered.

   “Yeah, he looks better now.” Sam said to Cas, putting on his cloths quickly before meeting up with the others. Very grateful to have a change of cloths in the trunk. He planned on turning the heat on in the car just until he warms up. He doesn't mind the chill of the spring air, but needed to take the edge off. March in the mountains was not a good time to skinny dip in freshwater creeks. Dean didn't seem too fazed yet. Probably used to the cold. Sam sighed and made a motion with his hand for the others to follow him back.

   Dean took very long drinks of water upstream from his bath and even caught a couple of large fish in the water. Nice little appetizer. Cas waved Sam off, he'll look after Dean as the dragon gave every impression of being a cat in the wrong body as he pounced his full weight into the water's edge at some small fish. He lifted up a paw and found the poor thing embedded into his lifeline wrinkles. He licked it free and nibbled up the flaky remains before another fish caught his eye. This time snapping it in his jaws instead of crushing it completely. The rest of his body hunkered down and Cas found himself leaning up against Dean's shoulder. Dean saw him through the corner of his eye and hid his grin under the water. Holding his mouth open and wriggling his tongue under the waterline. A fish took the bait, thinking the tongue's end was a worm and he snaked his tongue around it and lifted it quickly out of the water. He offered it to Cas who lifted up his hands, “Thanks for the offer, Dean, but I don't like fish.”

   Dean lifted up his hand and signed, 'why not?'

   “My older brother was fishing with his friend and he yelled at me for nearly stepping on one of the fish he caught and left on the shore. Claiming there were 'big plans for that fish'.” Cas shrugged. “He was just planning on putting it in some guy's locker. But, that's Gabriel for you.”

   Dean's brow furrowed, 'you never said you had brother.'

   “Yeah, well, I don't really talk to him much. He went missing when I was young. Ran away from home. I get a postcard every now and then, just letting me know he's alive. I guess he didn't like the family fighting. It got better, but, he say's he's fine out there on his own. I am too, I was too much of an oddball growing up. I left home right after high school. Dad... no one had heard from Dad in a very long time.” Castiel went quiet and watched the water ripple.

   Dean slowly nodded. 'i miss my dad too.' he signed and rested his head around Cas's feet. Cas hunkered down next to the cold dragon and ran his hand along Dean's neck.

   “But, you got Bobby, right?”

   Dean grinned and crooned a note in agreement. He shifted his body a little and wrapped his hand and arm a little around Cas to sign, 'we can share bobby.' and snort chuckled. His hand fell back down and ended up wrapping around Cas's legs as they both rested on the shore. Neither one of them wanted to move from this spot, enjoying the quiet company.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. Very busy this and especially last week. I was more or less finishing up one job, and training for a new one, and if that wasn't enough, I rescued a minuscule black and white stray kitten who is currently purring her head off on my chest, trying to sleep and not slide down at the same time. Guess my boobs make a nice sleep shelf... who knew?  
> I named the 1.2 lb kitten Sammy because she's gassy, and Dean isn't really a girl's name. Also, uh, 'bitch' XD. My other 2 cats are getting used to her, Castiel was the first to make friends, Danny is still being a little jerk. So, hence, the constant need to watch them all like a hawk. (hardest part is Sammy is far from potty trained and has diarrhea, poor thing!)  
> I'll try and get the next chapter out sooner then this one, but, I can't make any promises. Sorry! I do have tons of ideas, it's just getting the uninterrupted time to type! At least this one didn't end on an evil cliffy for once ;)


	18. Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations by the campfire light

Chapter Eighteen:

Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck

 

   “We better head back, it's near pitch black out.” Castiel murmured and pat Dean's hand that rested over his legs.

   Dean grumbled at that and considered trying to make a little fire right there on the beach. He even lifted up his huge head and pulled some dry driftwood over, making a small pile.

   “I know what you're thinking, and no, we are not gonna sit here all night. The others are waiting. It's getting really cold out too and you already feel like an icicle. If we're going to continue the escape from Alcatraz in the morning you'll need your rest.”

   Dean harrumphed but after a moment nodded. He yawned and finally lifted his hand from Cas's legs, freeing him to stand up and pop his back. Dean waited until his friend was a little ways up the very small beach before standing as well. He took one last moment to catch a few fish from the school that had been tauntingly close to him but just out of reach while he laid there. Like they knew how far his neck could go and swam just beyond that. He made quick work of the school, and Cas was grateful that he didn't get hit with the watery spray. Dean chomped down on them all, taking a long drink afterward before remembering that the others might have wanted some fish as well. Shoot. He nosed around the water, trying to temp more out of hiding but he could hear Castiel's teeth start to chatter. He turned around and sighed heavily. Not for the last time wishing that he could keep himself and others warm without resorting to setting something ablaze.

   “Come on Dean, I can see their fire from here. Let's get warm.” he invited and held out his hand as if Dean could take it in his own.

   Dean looked down to his right hand and flexed the massive clawed digits. He'd crush Cas's hand in his own if he wasn't careful. Dean sighed and shook himself off of the excess water and trudged up the slight hill towards the makeshift campsite a fair distance away. Fallen logs and shrubs were avoided because then his path would be more obvious. He stuck to the rocks and piles of dead leaves from last fall. They'd bounce back or the wind would move the leaves and twigs to cover his tracks easier. He had to remind himself to avoid detection because it had been ages since he had to worry about that. When you live in a cage, it's pretty damned obvious that people are gonna know where you're at.

   He bowed his head as low as he could without stepping on it and nudged Castiel's outstretched hand when he got close. Why did bipeds have to be so short, tiny, and fragile? If Dean moved to far or fast Cas could end up sprawled on the ground or even break a bone. So Dean took the utmost care when he nuzzled Cas's hand up to rest on the end of his nose.

   Cas grinned at him and affectionately rubbed Dean's nose a little. Dean couldn't help but dip into the hand more. Surprised at how _good_ this always feels. Cas seemed to exude a kind of calm and love to Dean in simple gestures and comforting words. Dean found himself craving that contact, the touch of someone that cares about him as much as he cares for them. Almost as if Castiel was reading his mind again, he let his hand rub up Dean's nose and reached up to between Dean's eyes and then his forehead, wherever he could reach. The fond smile that it brought them both was missed by both. Too caught up in the motions and fuzzy feelings it brought them. Dean loved his nose being rubbed. His hands and wing palms were always too rough for it, and it just wasn't the same. For some reason, when Sam and Cas did it, it never felt like being petted like an animal. It felt more like the feeling of an arm around a shoulder, or a manly embrace. And Dean knew that since his shoulders were high enough where they'd need a ladder to reach, this was the next best thing. Dean slowed to a stop and simply let his eyes drift shut as he practically groveled in front of Cas. His legs went weak and he scooted closer to Cas when it looked like his little friend wanted to join the others. His thoughts started to come in disrupted spurts with an undercurrent of want thrumming through his veins. 'Not yet. Not yet... just... a little longer together. Just... a bit more. Can't get enough. Gotta tell him. If Cas knows, then he wont leave. Now that I'm free, there's no telling how long Cas will stick around me. But I can't go on without him. He's as important to me as my little brother, dadfriend, more important then that black metal thing I named 'Baby' back in old life.'

   Dean _NEEDS_ Cas.

   More then just a simple want or desire, he needs him like he needs air and water. He'll never replace his baby brother, but, this is a different _kind_ of need. He never got these kinds of feelings for Sam, or Bobby. Cas... just feels like... intrinsic to his very existence. A partner. Maybe more. Dean doesn't even know what to call it. All he knows is that he doesn't want to do this, to live without the little guy. Alone. Every time he thought about what it would be like outside of the warehouse, without Cas, his chest hurt with a deeper pain then anything he'd experienced before. Not from physical influence, but from his heart. He found his cheeks were wet and his throat would get tight. Like he couldn't get enough air into the collapsing lungs. All from just thinking about what loosing Cas would be like. And now Dean is free. Theoretically Dean could just take off here and now, but that would turn into a death sentence for him. He needs the others to keep himself safe. He needs to keep them safe as well. No telling what evil things were out there, intending to hurt or kill them for just _helping_ Dean escape.

   Dean recalled that bastard that held a gun to Sammy's head. Then the other guy that knocked Cas down as well. If only he saw them outside of the burning building... he would have made them regret they were ever born. Dean knows that there will be a line up of people wanting revenge on them all. For taking Dean, for the fire, for the damage he'd done to all of the places he's been. A trail of destruction that wont be easily forgiven. Dean needs to protect them from the consequences of his actions. So they are solely his responsibility. Beyond just from his own mistakes, he needs to protect them simply because... well.... _because_. They aren't as strong as him. It's his job to protect, to keep safe, to watch over. He knows that he needs to do penance for all the harm that he's done. He was the one that set the fires, got the zoo shut down, he himself killed a fifth of the monsters from there – following Azazel's cruel orders, yes, but, they deserved to die painlessly and often, Dean did anything but. His thirst for blood and revenge was misplaced onto their shoulders and he enjoyed killing the pleading crying things. Punishing them for how he was mistreated. The trail of destruction was only just beginning. Dean was the only one that destroyed part of the military base, the explosions and fires injuring so many bipeds when they were escaping... that's on him. That's his responsibility, he needs to face the music for it, as well as for burning down Michael's buildings. His only comfort is that as far as he knows, no one had died due to his actions. Only monsters. Dean didn't want to be corrected on that fact so he never asked. He could remember a little more here and there from old life, he'd shoulder the blame for every single innocents death. Whether or not he was even there and able to do something about it. He claimed responsibility for those involved the second they rolled into town. Now, Dean couldn't even imagine taking on that heavy burden. If he did, if he acted like the Dean from old life, he'd probably go mad.

   Never-mind the fact that he was mistreated everywhere he went. The kind words sharp like blades when they tricked him into thinking that the kind words were spoken by kind people. Even those claiming to be on his side were not there for him when he needed them most, or only did the bare minimum for him. Probably trying to sate their morals with a few good deeds and ignoring the screaming fact that he was being tortured in a cage for most of this life. Even if it wasn't with whips and chains, the fact that they refused to give him enough to eat, refused to give him privacy, heat, dignity, the ability to wash or bathe himself, and enough room to move around... it's still inexcusable torment.

   He thought that the torture would continue on under Castiel's rule. But. He was surprised that he was not hurt there. He kept expecting pain, torture, torment, insults, starvation, ridicule, but instead got kindness, compassion, space, cooked food, and comforting attention. Cas treated him better then anyone had as far back as he could remember at the time. He even gifted him with his old memories, and now his freedom, his brother. Cas took his broken soul and pulled it out of perdition. He saved him. Cas saved his spirit and Sam saved his mind and body. Without Balthazar's hypnosis, he wouldn't have remembered his past, and if Dean really thinks about it, going back to the start many months ago, Castiel wouldn't have gotten the job that made it possible for them to meet if it wasn't for Balth. He picked up on that fact a few times when he first arrived at the warehouse. And without Bobby, he wouldn't have even made it past his toddler days. Bobby was like a father to him and protected the brothers at his own risk. Bringing them into his home and caring for them when they had nowhere else to go. They fed him, gave him shelter, taught him how to live in his new form as best he could. Sam and Bobby taught him how to hunt in a group, avoid detection when strangers were near, how to read and do the hand speak so Dean could have a _voice_ again. These four people, they were the only four people in the world that Dean needs more then anything. Even the others that were just nice or kind to him, they didn't stand up for him when push came to shove. His family and true friends did. They were there to pull him from the fire in more ways then one. How could he not repay that debt? Especially to Sam and Cas. Sam never stopped looking for him, and Cas never stopped fighting for him. Dean resolved to keep them safe. To treat them right in different ways. They had his trust, implicitly, and he hoped that he's got theirs, unquestioningly. For in the future, he may have to do things that they don't want to accept. Nothing... _NOTHING,_ is gonna come between him and his family and friends.

   Now if only he could tell Cas how much he cares about him. Say something that he can understand. Dean wished to all things holy that he could just make Cas understand every jumbled up emotion that runs through him every time he see's him squint, tilt his head, or speak to him in that deep voice that is like the promise of thunderstorms but relaxing as waves crashing. Dean absolutely loves it whenever Cas says his name in that smooth but slightly rough voice of his, deeper then half of Dean's own growls. The affection in that one syllable thrumming through Dean's very soul. He wanted to show Cas that he loves the black haired man's name too. Even if it was one that he'd never heard before, in this life or old, it fit Cas perfectly. He wanted Cas to feel some of that awesome feeling as well, when someone that cares that much about you says your name.

   Dean concentrated hard on his lips, forked tongue and long mouth as he very slowly formed some sounds that resembled Cas's name. It came out almost like a hiss with a hard click at the start. So odd, foreign to him. How the hell could bipeds make those sounds so easily? Well, simple. They had the advantage of forming their language around the sounds their mouths could make. They wouldn't have a word that they weren't able to make easily. Similar to how dragon chirps were so easy for him but no biped could possibly copy them and sound right. Hell, they couldn't even decipher what he was even saying _at all_. Just get the underlying meaning from what he says from his body language and the intensity and cadence of the things they think he's talking about. He could just be saying 'blah blah blah' but if his posture is menacing, demanding respect and he growls it with his eyes slit and brows low, they'd think he was making death threats.

   He tried saying Cas's name again, *click* 'hass'. But that only got a tilted head and fond smile. Clearly he didn't understand that was his name. Dean sighed and nudged Cas's hand again. Gently wrapping his forked tongue around it and tugging it before letting go and getting back to his feet. He nodded a little, and started walking towards the others, nudging Castiel forward with his left wing. Tempted to pick him up in it like he did Sam earlier. But it didn't feel like the right moment for it. He settled for walking slowly next to his friend at his side, keeping pace with his left hand as they made their way past fallen trees and unexpected dips in the earth. He could still feel the residual heat from where Cas leaned up against him for all that time. A grin formed and he tried to hide his teeth at first, but gave up, Cas didn't seem to give a shit, why should he? Dean did sober up a little as they rounded the Impala and heard the others talking about what happened the day they found Dean again after he'd been changed.

   Sam perked an ear to the creek again. He was trying to not make it obvious that he was keeping tabs on his giant brother and his brother's former captor. He failed miserably under Bobby's covert scrutiny. Balthazar didn't seem to notice or care. However, Balthazar would probably be doing the same thing if the roles were reversed. Dean wasn't even trying to be quiet so the resident supernaturally gifted hunter must know that they were still safe here in their neck of the woods. That eased some of the tension in Sam's shoulders. Dean would sense if something was up long before it becomes a problem. Or at least, he could back in the day. Might have gotten soft while living in those cages, perpetually monitored and studied. No chance at all to have any privacy or ability to hide. Sam couldn't even fathom it. Most of their lives were spent off the grid and on the sidelines of peoples attention. They liked it that way. Drawing too much attention to themselves could mean a death sentence. Especially for Dean when he was human due to that damned shape shifter taking his form and killing those people. They still had to tread lightly around real FBI agents and cops. But now, Dean couldn't even show his face at all in any kind of public setting. There would be riots and every Tom Dick and Harry would pull out their guns and rifles to bring down the monster. Never-mind the fact that that 'monster' probably saved more lives then anyone around. Sam's included. After all, Dean had still been hunting with their father while the youngest Winchester was at college.

   Sam shook his head at the derailed train of thought before thinking about his college years with Jess puts him back into a funk. Time to focus on the here and now again. He'd also spent too many months blaming himself for Dean's predicament. His mind going back to years before he'd been transformed, trying to pinpoint a spot where all this hardship could have been avoided with the smallest amount of effort. It was tough to say the least, their whole lives were devoted to killing evil monsters. There wasn't really one specific moment that could have ended it, even if Sam and Dean _weren't_ the ones that found the dragon in the first place, they would have heard about it at some point and Dean would no doubt want to hunt down a freakin' dragon, and end up doing the same thing he did last August. Take on the monster solo to give his little brother a chance to escape.

   Stupid Dean. Always risking his stupid life for his stupid brother. And now look at him with that stupid grin on his stupid face and that stupid way he walks when he really likes someone a stupid lot... wait...

   Sam squints past the firelight and sees the two coming towards them from the shrubs. Taking their sweet ass time to walk what? A quarter mile? Why is he walking so slow? Dean's not even that concerned with being quiet so it's not about being stealthy... what the hell? Sam's thoughts try to wrap around the sight before him. His dinner of rabbit de'jour is already forgotten in the handkerchief on his lap. Balthazar's already done with his portion, and Bobby is testing to see how done the other rabbit is. He momentarily breaks Sam's concentration with muttering something about wishing he had the right spices for this meal, and what he had back in his kitchen. Balthazar was taking mental notes. Sam doubted he cooked anything with more then 3 ingredients.

   Dean and Cas finally make their way back from the creek, stinking of fish and creek water, and find the others already feasting on two rabbits Bobby hunted and prepared. Sam eyed up the two of them more critically, they seemed a little too comfortable with each other. Like they were old friends. Or _more_. Sam eventually mentally shrugged at that. Probably reading too far into their closeness. Most likely Dean was just wanting another heat source to sleep next to. Like back in the semi trailer ages ago when he bear hugged the crap out of Sam while the older Winchester was sleeping.

   And if that's not the whole reason, then what does that mean? It could be more innocent then what the other part of Sam's mind is coming up with. Sam knew his brother better than anyone, Dean included. There was only so many times Dean could look longingly at a nice looking guy the same way he appreciated a fine looking lady before Sam started to see a pattern. And that was in high school. Sure, Dean boasted about being a ladies man, but that certainly didn't have to limit his options or obvious preferences. Dean never acted on it, but to Sam, it was clear that Dean was open to being an equal opportunity lover. Their father would be rolling in his grave if he knew Dean was about as straight as the rainbow slinky he got last year.

   He could do worse. Cas seems like an ok guy. The trench coat wearing dude appeared a little odd at times, but Dean seemed to really like him. Maybe he's putting the horse before the cart. Dean might just want a _friend_. If Dean wants to make friends he's more then welcome. Lord knows that he could use them right about now. And that Castiel dude seems alright enough. From what he's seen and heard, Castiel never intended to hurt Dean, but he got caught in the middle of the military and that Michael guy's demands. He was in a difficult spot where if he didn't have Dean produce the results they wanted, Castiel would be replaced with someone else that had no qualms with forcing Dean's cooperation. So he had to walk a tightrope line of obedience to them and keeping safe from harm. Sam wondered if they weren’t able to get Dean out, what Cas would have done if he'd been told to make Dean into a weapon. He'd heard some rumors about that plan while he was gathering Intel at the military base, before he ran across Meg. He probably misheard, but one of the conversations seemed to be about a male dragon that was already in training at the base. Dean was the only one he knows of, but Castiel made it sound like Dean was never asked to do anything of the sort under his supervision. At least, not yet. It may have been planned but it had not started yet. Right?

   “Bobby, when you were listening to the recordings, did you hear anything about another male dragon?” Sam asked somewhat quietly. The others perked an ear, immediately interested. Sam glanced over and saw that all eyes were now on him. He spoke up louder, “Something I overheard. They said they were training a male dragon to fight for the military. I had thought it was Dean at first, but now,” he looked over to Dean who looked as confused as everyone else there. “I see it's obviously not him.” Sam finished, waving a brisk hand to his brother's body, not wanting to point out even further that Dean still looked too thin for how big he was. He waited to see how the others reacted. “Any ideas?”

   Balthazar and Castiel just looked at each other and then Dean. “I haven't heard anything of the sort. I got the impression that they wanted Dean because he was the only male they could find.”

   “When was that? How long ago did they first get Dean?”

   Castiel held out a hand and started to count backwards from today, to when he first received Dean in the semi, how much time he spent cooped up in it in transportation as a makeshift kennel, and then to how long he guessed the military had him before he set fire to the facility. “I don't know the actual date, but Dean first arrived there nearly a month ago.” He looked over to Dean and gave a humorless grin. “Time flies when you're having fun.”

   Bobby gave a grim expression to Sam who looked like he would rather eat nails then tell the others what was going through his mind. “Dragons... don't seem to take a long time to grow up.” He then chanced a look up at Dean's furrowed brow. “When Dean was 3 weeks old, he was 15 feet tall. We met him after he was about a week old, had him for two and he kept growing. Another week or two after that and he shot up even bigger. I know if he was given endless food, it wouldn’t have taken him any time at all to become _huge_.” he got up and went over to where Dean was laying on his side. Tail fidgeting in the weeds. Sam reached up and started to rub Dean's shoulder. “We couldn't give you too much food because you would have been just too big to hide. And not to mention the cost of feeding you every day... you uh, you're only this tall because we needed to keep you small. You probably should have been as big as -” Sam dropped that complicated word and instantly used another, “as the other one.” As soon as the name 'mother' would be uttered, Dean would probably zero in on it and ignore everything else around. Insisting that they go rescue her immediately, now that he's free.

   Dean looked like he had an itch that couldn't be scratched. His fidgeting got worse and he stood up tall over everyone. Sam's heart hammered in his chest. Dean looked over to the road and then back at everyone around the small fire. It was clear to Sam that even though he avoided that word, Dean was now coming up with half baked plans in his head. Dean seemed to be thinking it over and over, and thankfully sat back down again. The side of him that knew not to leap- before-looking won out, but only just. He sighed unhappily and then hunched over the fire a little. Letting its heat warm up his diagonal neck as he moved a little closer. The heat rising up here wouldn't do the others much good, so he didn't feel like he was stealing their much needed warmth. He brought over a wing to warm it too. The wing that was more injured felt colder then the other one. Too many scrapes along on the inside and outsides where the metal scraped it so hard that it drew blood and in some spots punctured through, causing holes to appear in his wing membrane. They only hurt a little, and he was fairly certain they'd heal in time, but at the moment they were more chilled then anything. Blood was not circulating as easily since some of the blood vessels were severed. Any warmth his body had would now have trouble getting to every part of his wings. Dean would just have to warm them up manually. At least they had a small fire tonight. Bobby wouldn't have allowed one if he thought it would give away their position. Dean figured they must be safe right now.

   He twitched his wing and moved the hole in it directly over top the thickest part of the smoke trail. Watching as the smoke flitted up through the scarred open wound. He cupped his wing over the smoke, funneling more of the ash gray cloud to move through the hole and chuckled at the sight. More amused then appalled that his wing had a big hole in it. To Sam it was huge, to him it was negligible. He'd still be able to fly with it if he wanted to. But, not right now. He's sore and tired and busy warming up at the moment. And goofing around. He lifted his wing up a few inches then down and then up again, making the smoke puff through the hole in round shapes. Like someone smoking a pipe would make smoke rings and spheres. After a few moments testing it out, he nudged Sam with his hand, nearly knocking him over with the innocent move, and motioned for Sam's attention to the smoke above. Dean then angled his wing hand and made a perfect smoke ring with it that rose unhindered all the way up to the tree tops. That got a few claps from his audience and a “Very impressive Dean.” from Cas. A two fingered whistle came from Balth and Dean startled at that and sniffed at Balth's face for a second. Quiet snuffling noises were heard as his nose twitched.

   Castiel started laughing, “Dean, he just whistled. He's fine!”

   Sam looked over sharply, had he really missed his brother's worry? This guy was able to pick up on it and he couldn't? Sam felt a bit ashamed at himself for something that really wasn't that big of a deal.

   Dean pursed his lips together and blew air out, ruffling Balth's hair but not making much sound. He tried again, using two clawed fingers like he'd seen Balth do, and Balthazar did it again, slower and more obvious what he was doing to make that shrill sound. Balthazar and Dean went back and forth, Dean never did get a sound like Balth's whistle, but he did manage to trump that with his chirp. Balthazar doing a terrible impersonation of it, but still trying his best. Dean chuckled at him and just started talking in chirps and trills. Some seemed to resonate right from his neck, deep in his throat and then working their way up to his mouth. A rumble that increased in speed until it emerged as a coo-ing chirp similar to a dove and dinosaur. The very air around Cas vibrated with some of them, and he wished he could tell the others what that feels like, but also wanting to keep it to himself. Between Dean and him, even if Dean was oblivious to it.

   Dean liked to show off and then proceeded to make sounds even Sam hadn't heard from his brother. One sounded like a coyote yipyip yowling. Another thundered like a elephant's growl that seemed to come straight from his chest. He then lifted up his nose to the moon and tried to howl. Everyone clutched their ears and ducked but Dean just bellowed out a very loud, very long note into the night sky. It finally trailed off and he turned his head down smugly but frowned when he saw the others cowering from him. He chirped once in confusion and Sam tentatively unclutched his ears.

   “Wow, uh Dean. I think you win. Just uh, you don't need to do that one again.” he gave a weak grin.

   Dean looked pensive and signed, 'you hurt?'

   “Not much. And it's ok, you didn't know.” Sam assured him, “For some reason that sound feels like it could rupture our ear drums if you'd had your head down and aimed at us.”

   “Like some kind of sonic boom. But drawn out instead of one blast.” Balthazar added, wiggling a pinky in each ear to alleviate some of the weird tickling he felt in there and the persistent ringing.

   “I wonder if it's a secondary defense mechanism.” Castiel said to himself.

   “How effective could it be if even Dean didn't know it could hurt us? He was just making sounds and that one was simply stronger then the others.” Sam said, also trying and failing to hear the others clearly past the high tone resonating in his head. Everyone was inadvertently speaking louder for a little bit. Dean thought it was a little funny and decided not to tell them.

   “Good point.” Bobby considered. “Wonder if that's a happy accident. Could come in handy later.” Bobby gave Dean a proud grin which had the desired effect of making Dean feel a little better. Get his mind off the fact that he almost made them all deaf, with the idea of using it as a weapon against bad guys.

   Dean chirped in agreement and refrained from trying out any more sounds. No sense in doing any more damage to his friends and family. He cleared his throat and saw everyone there jump a little. Balth went to cover his ears again. Dean decided not to take it to heart. It was understandable that he'd want to protect his hearing. Man, bipeds are just, so _fragile_ in so many ways. Dean shook his head at them and tried to remind himself that he was once one of them too. A long time ago in another life.

   Sam threw on a few more logs onto the pile and nudged them into place with a long stick. One kept on rolling off of the pile no matter what Sam did so Dean dipped his head into the bonfire, picked it up in his mouth, chewed on it for a second and then spat it back onto the fire. His saliva helped the log burn as its now flattened form stayed put on the top. He reached up into the trees overhead and snapped off a long dead branch and broke it up away from the others so the whipping twigs wouldn't hit anyone. He gripped the main part and slid his huge hand down the length of it, pulling off all the smaller parts of the limb and then put them into a pile for the morning's fire starter kindling. The wider pieces were broken up into biped leg length and then circled around the fire. The others just watched in amusement, Dean obviously had some idea how this particular fire should be set up and burned and far be it for them to change it. Dean was the superior master of flames here, the only one practically made _of fire_ , and they deferred to his better judgment.

   It seems as though that limb wasn't fully dried out, and setting it up around the fire helped it along. The winter was particularly wet in this area, and the rainwater needed to be drawn out of the wet dead wood. It isn’t just water that makes wood wet, it's the sap inside that had yet to dry up or seep out. Green, or freshly cut wood doesn’t burn willingly. Dean nudged the circle of logs around after an hour, so the opposite side had a chance to dry now. The others were watching him and playing a game of “I never.” with Bobby's last six pack of beer from the trunk. The two remaining beers went to Dean because before that dragon body, he did pretty much everything, and they used that as an excuse to see what liquor does to a dragon. Sadly not much, Balth was hoping for some kind of hijinks. 'Next beer run would have to include a few kegs.' Balth mentally noted.

   He opened up his wings again and held them over the heat of the dying fire and saw the metal spots all over his skin glitter in the firelight. He angled it this way and that and the metal shined like a thousand twinkling stars. If they weren't looking directly at him, Dean looked a little like a galaxy of stars going supernova. The flames dancing on the reflective surfaces ranged from pinpoints of light to plate sized that led into the long uneven and dappled streaks along his sides simulating the milky way, but appearing as if the stars were all either exploding at the ends of their lives, or like nebulous clouds that were the building blocks for the celestial beings. The cosmic light show went on for a few minutes, Dean, slowly moving his wings and hands, making the waves of brilliant light dance across the whole area.

   Castiel's breath caught in his throat. Dean was _beautiful_.

   “Kinda purdy.” Bobby muttered to himself. Sam agreed. Dean snorted and shook out his wing as if it were wet. Dean was not 'purdy'. His new metal spots were like battle armor. Protection for a fierce warrior. Man, if only he were _covered_ with the metal. That would look _bad ass_. He'd suck at camouflage, at least everywhere 'cept for the junkyard filled with metal wrecks. There's a thought, when he gets back home he can have Bobby melt more metal to his hide. Then he could just stand still in a pose when others come by for car parts. He'd roar at them when they comment about the awesome statue. Scare the shit out of them! That sounds like fun.

   Bobby and Sam shared a look and then looked up at Dean who was busy inspecting his injured wing.

   “Dean, go get your dinner, about a quarter mile that way are a few deer near a bend in that creek. Have fun, Son.” Bobby tilted his hat and Dean nodded his thanks. Hopefully he could get enough to eat to build his strength back up. A school of fish was hardly enough.

   At first, it looked like Cas felt the need to accompany Dean on the hunt, just to make sure he's safe but Sam subtly gripped his inner elbow and gave him a minute shake of his head. Dean stalked off silently into the woods as the sun was now completely set. Everywhere save for the fire was pitch black. Once they were sure he was out of hearing range, they continued their important discussion.

   “Dean'll be fine. He's a good hunter, both kinds. He knows when to hold em and when to fold em. Now, we wont have much time before he gets back. He's gonna be upset if he hears this.”

   Sam's mouth made a grim line as he looked to the others. “It's his mother. Dean will probably want to save his mother, and I doubt we can stop him. So, we need to talk about how we can either talk him out of it, just long enough for us to preform the spell and turn him human again, or, we try and help him get her away from the US government.” Sam shrugged his shoulders, obviously not convinced that either will be a viable option.

   “We might have another side dish on our plates.” Balthazar piped up. He looked at Cas and said, “Meg.”

   Cas seemed to sink under that one name. “Crap. Meg.”

   “I've been meaning to ask, what does Meg have to do with all this now? We know she used to work for Azazel but why did you send her off to find me? Is this about her missing brother?”

   Balth spoke up, “Yeah, her brother and Dean. Azazel kidnapped her brother, threatening his life unless she turns up with Dean, giving him back to the bastard. If not, we suspect that Azazel's going to turn him into a dragon using the mother. We thought that you might be able to help us save Meg's brother and Dean's mother.”

   A silence engulfed the circle of men around the campfire. A distant sound of a scuffle signaled the near end of Dean's hunt. Damn he was fast. Then, surprisingly, they heard the dragon move off quickly to the campsites left, away from the road and towards the creek further upstream. Sam did tense up a little but relaxed when he could faintly hear the telltale sounds of another large prey animal being taken down. All of them were deathly quiet after the scuffle, worried that it was more then just another deer Dean was up against, but relaxed when they could hear his chirp from deep into the woods. He wouldn't give away his position like that if he was concerned about the enemy finding them. He was just signaling that he was done hunting and another trilling chirp was taken as a call that he's coming back. Thankfully, his chirps could be mistaken for a bird's call so even if someone did hear him, they might not associate it to a huge fire breathing monster. Sam and Bobby both jolted to the realization that they'd heard that particular sounding chirp before. Way back when Dean was still a toddler dragon, he and his mother exchanged those calls to let the other know where they were. Dean still remembered his mother like it was yesterday, and was trying to emulate her sounds and mannerisms with his own fragile family. Letting the ones back at the 'nest' know that he was fine, and where he was, and that he was coming back to protect them. Just like a good parent always does. Sam's throat closed up a little at the thought from the emotions it dredged up. Memories of their childhood when their dad was gone hunting for weeks and Dean was more like Sam's father then John ever was. Making sure Sammy was clean, fed, and happy, did his homework and encouraged every day. Looking out for not just Sam's well being, but also his intellectual growth. Sam knows that Dean was also 'the smart one' even though he kept insisting otherwise. Dean thought he was just a grunt worker, a soldier that took orders and nothing else. His self worth seemed to hinge on how Sam was doing, if Sam did well, then Dean did a good job, but if anything went wrong, it was somehow Dean's fault. He shouldered the blame and constantly tried to do better to bring their little family together. When their dad and Sam got into arguments, it was up to Dean to smooth things out. In a way, it was good practice for this current life. Pretty soon, they'll have to find a peaceful way to deal with the new opposing sides. No doubt Dean will blame himself for all that's gone wrong now, and he'll try and fix it himself. If they can get out of this whole mess without any bloodshed, that would be the best option around. Sam had no idea how though, it seems like everyone in power knows that Dean was once human, and yet they still want him as a pet, or weapon, or specimen.

   They'll just have to make everyone else, everyone that still has a soul, to see that trying to keep his brother like an object is wrong. Especially when he could be turned back again. He could return to being the best damned hunter of evil monsters around. 'Saving people, hunting things. The family business.' Sam can still hear Dean's little speech in his head after all these years. Dean willingly put his needs second to those of his brother and the job. He was both a good hunter and caretaker. Now was no different. Big brother was reassuring the little _little_ brother as he chirped in a nearly singsong manner. A victory song as well as promise of return with the fruits of his labor.

   Dean was apparently eating the farther animal he took down, the others figured it was probably because he couldn't carry both deer, and the others didn't need two full deer for dinner. They then heard him tracking through the woods towards the one closer to the camp, bringing it back. Sam and Bobby were the only ones there that could tell what Dean sounds like walking through the woods when healthy and when sick, Dean sounded _exhausted_ but of course, trying to hide it. Just like the time right after he took on the armored trucks and helicopter. Dead on his feet but still plodding away after the Impala. He sounded a little worse then that now. If just taking down two deer could do this to him, how the hell can he go up against the military, Michael and Azazel? They all knew that he would still try. Given half a chance or even no chance at all, Dean was not going to give up on his human family nor his dragon mother.

   Bobby and Sam seemed to have a silent conversation, Sam spoke up first, “Ok, I guess that settles it. Dean needs our help. He wants to save his mother, and I know that if he thinks we are safe away from the fight, he will go it alone if he has to. We are not going to abandon him now.” Sam looked to the other men for a reaction, they were right on board with him. He gave a quick grin and continued, “We have to figure out a way to free the mother and Meg from the hold Azazel has over her, now that he kidnapped her brother. It's no longer as simple as hiding Dean till solstice and turning him back. He wouldn't want us sacrificing some innocent kid just to buy us some time. And that's all it would be, if we do nothing, that poor kid's gonna suffer the same fate as Dean.”

   Castiel nodded. “That, and, with the military involved from the start, Meg's brother would be doubly screwed. They'd likely train the young dragon to fight their battles. That's what Michael said, _suggested_.” he grimaced. “They all want something from him, expect it, demand it.” Castiel made a disgusted face. All he wanted from Dean was his friendship. What he might be getting is more then that, he can feel it whenever Dean is near, Dean just seems to gravitate towards him, smile wider, be happier... Cas feels the same way. Castiel looks into the dark woods as if he could see Dean through the trees and blanket of night. “I care a lot about him,” he admitted, though it was no secret. “I'm still grateful and so very glad we got him out of there.”

   Balthazar refrained from making any lewd comments, not in front of Dean's family at least, and had a stray thought. “Here's a question, what do we do if the mother _was_ once human as well?” Balth said, everyone's eyes fell on him.

   After a moment Bobby said, “I s'pose we could gather up more ingredients for a second spell. We'd have to make damn sure she really was human before, because that kind of spell doesn't take kindly to mistakes. We could all end up dead. If not from the spell, then from what the spell turns her into. We would even have to make sure she _wants_ to return to the rat race. If not, I don't know how we can keep a dragon _twice_ Dean's size and strength from killing us all for mistreating her son. She will only see us as the evil humans that kidnapped and hurt him. She might have a slim chance of recognizing you,” Bobby gestured to Sam, “She actually met you before when you boys first ran into her. Me, she prolly smelled when we grabbed baby Dean, but doesn’t have a face to go with the scent. And you two are just strangers to her, right?” the others nodded. “So that leaves Dean being the once to vouch for all of us.”

   Castiel said hastily, “Oh, by the way, Dean has a chip in one of the spines in his neck. Between his 4 shoulder blades, uh, wings and arms. Meg is still able to track his location. So we don't really wanna piss her off or she will just give the radio receiver to Azazel in exchange for her brother. It's really a wonder why she hadn't done it yet. She must trust us to come up with a plan.”

   Sam and Bobby knew that she was able to track him, but at the time they figured that Dean had one of those radio collars, not that he had a chip embedded into his freakin' _spine_! Really, they should have realized that. Dean wasn't wearing anything of the sort when they busted him out. Sam's mind supplied him with the reassurance that it could have been taken off and stored in the warehouse somewhere close by, and that Dean didn't necessarily have to be wearing it for Meg to track him there. But that notion was shoved angrily aside because that isn't the case. Dean is carrying the tracking chip inside his body. In a spot that's probably one the most dangerous places to go poking around in _anyone's_ body. Just had to be the top of his spinal column. The only other place where it would be worse would be inside his older brother's brain. Sam wanted to shoot something. His fury towards Azazel climbed up another notch that Sam was surprised was there. He thought he couldn't hate the bastard anymore, but this is just a new level of enmity.

   They had to quiet down though because some scuffling sounds started to get louder as something huge was trying to be quiet while coming towards them through the woods. Dean is a little rusty at slinking around, but still agile enough, to untrained ears, it was like some person was walking through the woods. The others immediately changed the subject to what kind of monsters there are in the world. Dean grinned past the huge tan form dangling out of his mouth. His footfalls were heavier and sloppy. Even the civilians noticed that the hunter was not in peak condition. He looked worn out but happy with an obviously distended belly and one whole deer being carried in his mouth like a trophy. Dean strut over to set it aside, but close to the fire. He panted a little and sat up proudly next to it and the others dutifully congratulated him on supplying them all with dinner and breakfast. Dean sniffed and smirked through the heavy breaths out of his nose. Clearly trying to hide how tired he was. The weariness will fade now that he's eaten and can rest for the night. Oh yeah, not quite yet, there's still the matter of preparing the meat. Bobby had shown him ages ago in old life, and Dean wanted to show off his knowledge. He was absolutely thrilled that he could remember more then ever before. Just being around his family was sparking wonderful electrical impulses in his brain. Connecting memories and sorting the ones from old life and new, into better order. The white fog that plagued him was dissipating and he mentally blew away the mist whenever he sensed it.

   He brought over a huge dead fall tree and dumped it onto the small campfire, using up a little of his firestarter to light it up faster, then draped his second deer over the bulk of it. Licking his lips for some cooked meat. Earlier, he was too hungry to care about cooking the first half of his dinner, but wanted to provide the others with a big thank you. Something he was good at and can do to _prove_ that he was worth the effort to free him. He was not going to be useless and a burden, he was going to be strong for them.

   Sam kept having flashbacks and had to excuse himself from the party. He said it was to check the radio for local news reports that might deal with them. He barely made it into the driver's seat before waves of guilt crashed in on him in that old familiar way. 'Not fast enough, not good enough.' He kept stealing looks in the rear view mirror. Confirming that he did in fact rescue his brother. Soon they were going to have him back to normal. They wont have to worry about any of this after they come up with a plan to win and actually beat those assholes once and for all. They'd only just started the war. But, soon, once they get everyone safe and away from the bastards, they could live in peace. Find somewhere to rest for a damned minute. Dean might even forgive him for everything, or at least the major thing that had been haunting Sam all these months, not saving his brother from Azazel. Sam'd more or less come to terms that Azazel, or a situation like him, would have come along regardless how careful they were. What was really unforgivable was not being able to get him BACK again _before_ he was tortured. That's all on Sam. He should have been better at tracking, hunting, retrieving. It was his fucking brother and he failed miserably. They'd hunted down monsters all their lives and he couldn't even hunt down a fucking human scumbag.

   Dean chirped over to him, detecting the scents coming from the car as a general feeling of 'not good'. He got up and walked carefully around everyone and laid down next to the driver's side, positioning himself so that his head could rest on his folded arms and he could see inside the car's door. He chirped softly at Sam and nuzzled the door until Sam sighed and draped his arm out of the window, patting Dean's nose between his nostrils. Dean loved that but he wouldn't be distracted that easily. He lifted up his hand and signed, 'whats wrong'. Then lowered it again, eyebrows peeked in worry.

   “Nothing. You're back, you're safe now. Everything's fine.” A grin was on Sam's lips but his eyes were full of intense sorrow. His mask failing to cover up his tremulous thoughts.

   Dean studied the small face and sniffed again. He didn't look convinced. He nudged the car a little with his nose and it rocked side to side, jostling Sam a little.

   “Ok, ok, maybe it's not all fine.” he sighed heavily and side eyed his huge brother's face. “Since when did you do chick flick moments anyway?” Sam asked wryly. Hoping that the mention of something Dean avoided in his old life would make him drop this misplaced concern for the disappointment of a little brother. Worth a shot.

   Dean's wings shrugged and he nudged the car again a little harder, persistent. Sam had to hold onto the wheel to keep himself from being knocked around too much. Dean's folded arms were too close to the door to let Sam get out, and Sam's look to the other side of the car informed him that Dean had wrapped his whole body around the rear and other side of the car. The tail curled up just enough around the front passenger side window to tell Sam that he was surrounded unless he wanted to shoot out the windshield. Dean smirked at the look Sam gave him and on top of curling around the car, he draped his right wing over the whole thing and chuckle-chirped. Sam flipped on the dome light with a flourish of fingers.

   Sam sobered up and mumbled nearly inaudibly, “It's just, I couldn’t save you.” Dean's eyebrow raised and he flapped the wing once. Light from the fire illuminating the car for a moment. Dean folded it back a little to let Sam see out. Resting it on the roof and trunk but not the front window and front passenger side. Suddenly aware that covering him up completely might be too intimidating. Dean just wanted his brother to open up, not force him to talk through intimidation tactics.

   Sam didn't seem to care at the moment what the dragon was doing, just that his brother was listening. “I know you’re here now, and I did a small part, but, that doesn’t change the fact that I was too late to save you from that fucking bastard Azazel.”

   Dean hummed in understanding. He lifted and folded his wing back the rest of the way. Sam's heart sunk. He saw it as Dean wanting nothing to do with him now. Distancing himself from his useless little brother. Dean sniffed the car again suddenly, nosing inside the window and ruffling Sam's hair in the quick breaths. Dean ducked back out again and signed quickly, 'not your fault'. And nudged insistently at the door, unfolding and wrapping his wing around the car tightly. The metal groaned a little on the weaker spots and alarms went off in Sam's head. Dean could _crush_ the car.

   “Dean!” Sam said, pulling at the door handle.

   Dean just kept mewling and his tail circled up around the side towards the windshield. More bits of metal groaned under the weight and it wasn't until Dean scented the air again did he feel Sam's panic. He let go of the car immediately and jammed his nose back into the car window. Sam's hands shot out and pushed at the snout to back up or risk bending the door frame.

   Dean sniffed more, shuffling his body into a crouch outside of the driver's side door and away from the rest of the car. He crooned, 'It's ok Sammy, it's not your fault, I wont let anything bad happen again. I promise. You're safe with me, ok? I will take care of everything.'

   “Dean! _Back up_!” Sam's hands pushed again at the maw that kept making loud noises at him. Whatever Dean was saying didn't matter as the act alone was terrifying with it being said less then a few inches from Sam's face. Teeth that could easily rip him apart flashed next to curled lips and a forked tongue. The saliva filled mouth made disturbing slick smacking sounds alongside the clicking of deadly sharp teeth snapping closed and open sent him into fight or flight mode instantly. There was nothing to distract him from the thought of being bitten by that mouth in one swift move. He'd even been _inside_ that mouth before but this seemed scarier. Too fast, too sharp, too loud, too toxic, too _close_. Sam shuffled to the other side of the bench seat from under Dean's massive moving jaw and he hastily got out of the door. He took a few quick paces back from the car as Dean pulled his head from the window and raised it over the car to see Sam.

   'I promise Sammy.' he softly growled again. 'Don't be scared.' he added then huffed for a second before hand signing slowly to the frightened little biped, 'you are ok.' before frowning at Sam's fast heart rate and stricken face. 'safe.' he signed, then repeated, even slower until he was sure his brother understood all that word meant.

   Sam seemed to be calming down, now that his instincts were coming back under control. The huge dragon didn't try and catch him, crush him, or eat him. In fact he hadn't moved an inch since signing that one word a few times. Sam's logical side of his brain kicked the shit out of his knee jerk reaction and he started to berate himself all over again. His own brother didn't deserve to be treated like that. Aside from a worried chirp from the monster, Dean didn't move or say anything else for a few moments.

   The others around the fire had been watching, tense, wondering what the hell the brothers were doing over by the car. There was a silent standoff going on right now and they weren't sure what to do to alleviate some of the tension. Dean just looked over to his panting little brother and then sighed softly. His body seemed to get heavier and he sagged under the weight. Sam continued to stand off a couple dozen feet away, a torrent of things going through his head, none of it making a full appearance on his face. His expression was schooled into a blank mask until one of the emotions became stronger then the others. Time seemed to drag on.

   Castiel spoke up first, “Hey, Dean?” he waited until his friend had his full attention on him, “Why don't we call it a night? It's really late now and we can let the meat slow cook overnight.” Castiel stood up and walked on over like he was just grabbing something from the car. Both brothers appeared to visibly relax now that the quiet was broken. “Got something I can use for a pillow?” he gestured to the car and looked up to Dean to include him in whats going on, Dean must be feeling like a 3rd wheel. Castiel never figured out why that particular phrase meant a bad thing, like someone that is not needed or wanted. 3rd wheels provide stability, traction, and make the unit better, stronger. Dean is a _good_ 3 rd wheel. Everyone here is a good 3rd wheel. Of course if he said that out loud, only Balth would get where he's coming from.

   “The pillow doesn't have to be anything special, a rolled up shirt aught to do it.” Castiel suggested to help Dean's problem solving skills in little ways here and there. He may have been a 30 something hunter back in the day, but this version had spent most of his life behind bars. His mind wasn't tasked with problems too often. Castiel wanted to help him with that.

   Dean's brow furrowed as he thought about it. He sniffed around the car for a moment, unable to open up the trunk, he considered pulling apart part of the back seat and handing that over. A very loud pissed off voice from old life threatened castration if he put one claw on his Baby's interior. Dean shook his head a little and frowned. That was weird.

   Coming up short, Sam stammered out, “Y-yeah. I uh, we got a few clean cloths we could use. A good sized spare blanket in the trunk. Another big towel we can use for who-ever is gonna sleep outside. The towel covers up what deer hunters use for an outside bed, long dry grasses gathered up and laid out just big enough for their bodies. We can burn the evidence in the morning. Oh, and Bobby needs a bench seat for his spine injury.” Sam announced with some authority.

   Bobby huffed at that but shut up at Sam's glare. He was about to insist he takes first watch but Sam wouldn't hear of it. Bobby wasn't even supposed to be out of the house, and here he was on the lam. The backseat of the Impala was as close to a bed as they could find out here in the sticks.

   Castiel offered to take first watch, and Balth and Sam would sleep in the front seat. Sam and Dean had made it their beds most of their lives and short of a sore neck, it was do-able.

   Castiel was going told to swap out guard duty. He said he would, but in the end he decided he could just let them all sleep the full night, and get his own rest during the drive tomorrow. He dearly wanted to sleep under the stars outside next to Dean. Bobby continued to grumble about being treated like a senior citizen but was overruled by everyone there and Sam threatened to have Dean put him in the car and seal him in if he refused. Even though Bobby tried to hide it, both Cas and Balth became aware of the stiff movements the older hunter was making when he thought no one was looking. Seeing the careful steps he would take through the woods while gathering firewood. Not to mention the cane was a dead giveaway in the trunk. Balthazar and Sam were ok with splitting the front seat, Sam in the driver's side since Dean suddenly gave Balth the side-eye for even looking at his former spot. Never mind the fact that Dean wouldn't be able to sit in the driver's seat for nearly a month- provided everything goes well with the spell. So that left Cas and Dean outside next to the fire. Castiel assured everyone that he felt responsible for Dean's current predicament and swore he'd look after him while he slept. Dean didn't have any say in any matter after giving Balth the evil eye, because he laid down moments after and promptly konked out. Cas grabbed the blanket from the trunk and after some help from Sam, his grassy bed was at first a few feet from Dean. Castiel waited until Sam and the others were settled in the car before he kicked and shoved the grass over to the sleeping wall of scales. He then hunkered down next to Dean's side and felt a wave of calm come over him. Like this is where he's meant to be. He was surprised the huge body was still very warm from the fire, his mind working through Dean's biological mechanisms to allow such a long duration of heat retention but then berated himself for thinking of that instead of his friend's well being. As Castiel kept an eye and ear out for anything. Trucks, helicopters, militia on foot and even wild animals. After all, bears and cougars wouldn't see a dragon as a threat because they'd never even seen one before. They might consider it as harmless as a big deer. Castiel was pretty certain that Dean could take on anything in nature but still pressed himself closer to the wall of comfort. After the first couple hours of nothing happening, he decided to keep monitoring Dean's heart rate, breathing and general well being. He too would drift off now and then, but tried to keep vigilant watch over everyone as they slept. It felt like his duty, but also, it made him feel good and relaxed. He took responsibility for their safety. And of course, the two pistols that Sam tucked under his makeshift pillow helped with security.

   Castiel was startled awake when Dean shifted in his sleep. He didn't even remember drifting off, of course, people usually aren't aware they're falling asleep as it's happening. Dean was still too far gone to realize that he was now reaching blindly for that _wooonderful_ heat source. Cas was pulled closer by both of Dean's hands and smushed up against the huge chest and belly. His arrow shaped head curled in a little, chin tucking in tight over his arms, and wings covered them both up in a cocoon. He settled down just a moment later with a very long contented sigh.

   Cas never saw Dean so peaceful and relaxed. He squirmed just a little to get into a more comfortable position and Dean allowed that, adjusting himself again to help Cas out. All still while very much asleep. It was like he'd done this before. Cas reminded himself that Dean was the older sibling of the two brothers, and this was most likely something they'd done. He remembers a time when Gabriel would make sure Castiel was safe and sound on stormy nights, dragging his frightened little brother into his bed and telling him a story to help ease his mind. It usually incorporated the storm in some way, the tried and true, 'God is bowling with angels,' and another night, how the thunder and lighting is from a big party upstairs in Heaven because some angel just got their wings. The flashes of lightning were for pictures being taken, and the thunder is from the other angels dancing on clouds in their celebration. The rain was from some huge angel spilling their drink. Castiel marveled at how big that angel would have to be and Gabriel would grin and say that they were as big as the Chrysler building and other sky scrapers. But that they weren't scary, and would always look after them. Their big-ness was needed to keep away all the bad things in the world.

   Castiel would often take solace sleeping next to his protective older brother, especially on the nights when there'd been a fight in the family. His mother never did like that their dad was gone so much. He missed his brother dearly. Last he heard of Gabriel was Christmas a few months back. He sent Cas various b-movies for unicorns, Sasquatch and Lock Ness monsters and their ilk, and then a day later the real gift, an expensive leather wallet and deep blue silk tie. It took Cas several attempts to tie it correctly to realize that it was a 'joke' tie that had thin curved wires in the length of it that turned so slightly it wasn’t apparent that it would forever have the back turned around. Always making it look backwards. He wore it anyway.

   Castiel gave up trying to escape Dean's gentle but firm grip and settled in for the rest of the night. His watch informed him dawn would be breaking in just an hour anyway, and chances were, that the others would be up soon after that. His sleepy mind ignored the red flag that it threw up, the future embarrassment of being found sleeping with a dragon, but he ignored it. He was just sleeping. Not ' _sleeping'_ sleeping with a dragon.

 _That's later_. The thought whispered with a voice that sounded suspiciously like Balth but he knew it was his own, way deep down. It just sounded like his friends voice because he usually didn't think about promiscuous situations with monsters. The word 'usually' hovered a little before it too vanished into his mind as his breathing evened out and Dean snuggled in a little more.

   Neither of them heard the footsteps creeping around the campsite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song Some Nights by FUN. I must have seen this music video at least a hundred times, I highly recommend it!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HKbCRA1vs&list=PLxG3rD6uCxejOnTD_CXUfM14IrFCYpG_a&index=4
> 
> Again! a million apologies for the lateness of these chapters. My new job's long hours literally keep me from doing much of anything outside of basic maintenance of my house, self, sanity, and pet's sanity and sanitary-ness. The cats take up the remaining 3 hours of my day between work and sleep. I literally work about 60 hours a week, twice what I had been doing when I could actually write and post every 4 days. The next chapter will be late as well, probably the new regular, and I am so sorry! But with just 3 hours a day to do everything that needs to be done, there is no time left at all for any of my hobbies and writing just fell victim to the busy schedule.  
> The new normal for future updates will probably be every 2-3 weeks unless I figure out a better way to manage my free time. of course, inspiration doesn't like schedules and that's the other part of the problem. Just know that I still don't want to abandon this fic, it will just be a little bit between chapters.  
> one thing that gets me going is feedback though.... wink wink nudge nudge say no more!


	19. Gotta find the Queen of all my Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween everyone! here is your long awaited Destiel treat!
> 
> Balthazar comes up with a side spell that might be able to help them out, but is less then well received.  
> Dean and Cas are in for a startling surprise when they wake up from very warm, very *sensual* dreams. The implications of their slumbering sexcapades and waking emotional fallout will leave both of them shaken to their core despite the acceptance of their friends and family. Cas is not ready for that next step and Dean's psyche takes a hike.
> 
> This chapter is the reason for the change in rating. It's gonna get interesting and a little r-rated in the future. Next chapter is more pg 13, I just wanted to give a heads up! I'm Just gonna say that you can't really blame them for stuff that happens when they're asleep!

Chapter 19

Gotta find the Queen of all my Dreams

 

   A few birds started to chirp before the dawn, most waiting for the warm white circle in the sky to come into full, glorious view so they could scream at it. The air in the car was a little stuffy from the three men's breaths and roused the one in the front passenger seat. The windows were hopelessly fogged with the chilly air that permeated the land. The mild winter may be coming to an end, but signs of spring were everywhere. In this little valley of quiet woods, it was almost like winter never happened. Balthazar stirred a little more, regretting the motion immediately as that crick in his neck sent shooting pain down his spine and ricocheted back up to his skull. He muffled a groan and gently tilted his neck one way and the other to loosen up the cramped muscles, stifling a deep yawn to avoid waking the others. He turned in his seat but couldn’t make out much from beyond the rear window. He could see the breathing shape of his lizard friend out there, but short of leaning over the older hunter and wiping off the rear window, he couldn’t discern much else. The sky was getting lighter by the minute so he knew he only had so much time to work with. He double checked to see that he was still fully clothed, because some mornings waking up in cars; that wasn't the case, and proceeded to open up his door quietly. He saw Sam shift a little, pulling closer into himself for warmth before shutting the door as far as it would go, just shy of enough pressure to seal it. He still might need to get back in with as little noise or car movement as possible.

   After getting a good yoga stretch in, Balthazar crept silently away from the sleek black car and moved to the trunk, having popped it open earlier and leaving it mostly closed, so that the others wouldn’t notice it being open. Balthazar prided himself on his stealth and spy skills against two seasoned hunters, not to mention, a great big dragon that was also a hunter with even keener senses then all of the 4 men combined. He double checked behind him and grinned when he saw that Dean was still fast asleep. The kid was sleeping in a self-made cocoon. He kinda looked like an Easter egg with the metal streaks along his body. Balthazar's fingers itched to help out his friend with picking some of that damned metal off of him. Dean was probably putting on a brave front for them, who could be comfortable with unbend-able metal attached to their skin?

   He couldn't see Cassie anywhere but wasn't too worried, he was safe because no doubt Dean wouldn't be so relaxed if his beau was in danger. Benefits to boyfriending a beast. And, to a lesser extend, being the best friend of the boyfriend of the beast. He and Dean's friendship was no longer strained, now their bickering was more like playful banter. Balthazar always had cared about what happened to the kid. He couldn't imagine what Dean and the others had gone through just being hunters of monsters. And now, all this nonsense. The kid deserved better. And Cassie deserves better too. He finally finds that tall handsome hunter and can't do a thing with him. Well, not _yet_ anyway.

   Balthazar took one long look around the place and made sure all was still, well, and quiet. He then pulled out one of the spell books that he found earlier and as quiet and careful as possible, he crept away from the others to read it away from potentially prying eyes. He knew he saw something as he was flipping through it earlier and something kept nagging him in the back of his mind that a solution to at least one of their problems was within its creepy pages.

   He scanned the pages quietly, using his cell phone in his lap for a bit of light. Not the flashlight app, but the screen to send text messages. Bright but not _blindingly_ so. While he read the notes, he was also busy keeping an ear out for the others waking as well as anyone that is after the little band of misfits. So far so good. Birds started to chirp and scree with some conviction once the sun started to peek over the nearby mountains.

   The pages of this spell book were thicker and felt odd under his fingertips, he wondered what the hell kind of material it was made out of. Vellum maybe, it seemed very very old and he remembered watching a documentary on the show 'How It Was Made' about old books being made out of stretched thin sheepskin called vellum. This seemed to be similar but different. He'd have to ask the others later. The hairs started to rise on his neck as he refused to admit that the feel of the pages were eerily similar to the feel of his own skin minus the new gooseflesh texturing it. He flipped through more of the cryptic pages and kept the hunter's sloppily written notes in place. Those were written with better translated English phrases and terminology that followed each chapter or potion portion. Their notes were somewhat legible, obviously written in a kind of code or shorthand for them to access the important information faster. No doubt, the succinctness aided in their jobs. 'This is the monster, here's where you find it, here's how you kill it.' instead of going into the history of its mating rituals, favorite color, least favorite seasons of weather, and what the monster likes to do in it's spare time when it's not chowing down on long-pig. Sometimes that extra information can come in handy, but the cliff notes version of their Encyclopedia Beastanica was more important when you're nose to snout with the damned thing.

   Balthazar's gaze shot up to Dean for a brief moment. It still amazed him that such a thing could exist, let alone, the fact that he had _befriended_ one. Then a chill went up his spine at the thought that it was even possible for him to _become_ one. It wasn't just fantasy, it happened and probably will happen again to Meg's brother. Balthazar only met him in passing once or twice, but did not want to see him get hurt. The guy was innocent in all this. Hell, _none_ of them deserved this crap. Balthazar may not have been much of a fighter in hand to hand combat, but he does not give in to bullies. Never has, never will. He was glad he could pull up his friends when they were being put down by others. He'd been fighting for peace all his life, and now he's fighting against, in his mind, the biggest bully around. The US government. Not the whole one, just the hidden part that thinks they can get away with ruining peoples lives in the pursuit of the next big weapon in their never-ending wars. It's like they don't want to admit that these creatures were people. They're wearing blinders. 'Needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few,' said in a Star Trek movie but apparently turned into their motto. Sacrifice one in order to save more is what the original meant, but they turned it around to mean, 'Sacrifice one for the needs of the many in the _military_ to kill countless more _._ '

   What _good_ comes from sacrificing Dean? Dean's mother? To what end? Make a better, more efficient way of killing people? No good can come from using the dragon's natural defenses against people. There is nothing found yet that can douse his flames except for an intense wind blowing it out, a lakes worth of water dumped on it, or mountains of dirt thrown over it. Using his flame would be like using organic napalm. What if the army, military, or navy has an accident while using it? How many lives lost? Damage done?

   Balthazar shook his head to focus his thoughts again. He just gets so worked up thinking about how in all of the years this country has existed, there had been only 21 years of peace with no war. His blood was starting to boil and he had to breath deep to get his emotions in check. He did love the United States citizens, but the way it's run... they simply dropped the ball. Another deep breath. He looked over to Dean again, knowing that his friend could detect strong feelings and Balthazar's current ones might actually wake him up. The tail moved a little but nothing came of it. Balthazar blew out the breath and hefted the heavy book back to his knees, turned the phone back on from sleep mode, and continued to read in the dim light. The sun was slowly rising but not enough to read by yet.

   Balthazar carefully scanned every page, focusing on the notes for the corresponding spells and pages of information. He was finding it easy to navigate, unlike the majority of this book which had Ye Olde English scrawled in a font that changed with every spell or story. Most likely written by a whole coven of witches that had gathered up all their homework and put it together in this very old book for safe keeping. They must have been trying to one up the others in each successive spell update because it had more flowery prose and confusing rhymes being pushed out from its pages, then Shakespeare inspired sonnet quotes from that bar-hopping poet's ass, ironically named Rimes.

   Balthazar had met some interesting people in his life.

   Nearing the end of the book, he finally came across one section and translated blurb, that must have been what his subconscious cataloged when he'd been flipping through it yesterday. A reduction spell. Granted, it took a nights worth of putting the gleaned idea on the back burner for his mind to come up with a good use for that spell. But when he did, he knew this could be the dog's bollocks.

   Balthazar snapped his fingers in triumph but then jerked his head up to see if the others heard that. Sam's side of the car moved a little as he shifted in his seat, slumping down, and Dean-o's tail twitched a little. Come to think of it, where the hell did Cassie go? If he was making the perimeter rounds he should have been back by now. Balthazar set the book down carefully behind the rock he was seated on and crept up closer to the huge metal speckled mound of scales and snores. The kid's wings were folded around himself and a corner of a blanket was peeking out from between them. Cassie's blanket. He had a brief moment of fear that his best friend had been crushed, but then noticed that the thin membrane of the top wing was being raised and lowered steadily by a separate smaller chest then the massive dragon's. Dean's breathing was visibly slower then the smaller being in his wing bed-bubble. Which made sense, bigger body, slower heart rate, slower breathing rate. Like elephants versus mice. The wing moved a little and a human hand was now sticking out, but the owner was still very much asleep despite the twitching fingertips. Cassie always was a restless sleeper. Probably why the kid wrapped him up with his wings too. Didn't want him falling out of bed and rolling over into the dying fire ring a few feet away.

   Seeing that his friend was still safe and sound and as asleep as the rest of them, Balthazar crept back over to the book and read up before someone else besides him woke up. The spell actually looked pretty simple. Hell, he had half of these ingredients at home. The rest could be found at a damned vegan grocery store. These witches probably didn't have access to some of the spices back then, but now, they were all too common with the rise of 'organic' only sections at every single grocery store in his old neighborhood. With the shrinking spell, they could just make the dragon travel size and take him to the cabin Bobby was talking about yesterday. Mr. Rufus Turner sounded like his kind of guy. Good tastes in alcohol. Johnny Walker Blue wasn't his _favorite_ per-say, but he had to admire the man for sticking to his guns. Only drinking the best and not settling for the cheap swill that some Americans swear by. Please. They are so backwards that they even make their tea without proper tea kettles, no, instead they make it with dunk-able packets of processed mulch in coffee mugs. _Savages_.

   Although, this country does have some interesting pharmaceuticals, bargain bin prices if you knew the right people. Not to mention the easy access to them was breathtaking in its elegance. They had delivery guys on bicycles that would come to your door if you ordered it from the right blokes. And Balthazar knew a fellow for every occasion and need. Hell, he sometimes was the guy to go to for quality and variety. 'What can I say, I like to help people have a good time with _pure_ ingredients. None of that bottom grade refuse that's cut with under-the-kitchen-sink additives. No ma'am.' His suppliers were friends and family and he would taste test everything before sending it off to his short list of trusted clientele. He refused to deal with anything that resulted in long term health hazards, or things that were detrimental to a person's general well being. All of his 'outbox stash' were nearly harmless, and the effects and side effects would wear off within a day or two at most. His psychotropic inbox, and personal collection were administered with great care and enjoyed in the presence of very close friends alone, for safety's sake. It was really too bad that Cassie would only watch over him, and not partake _with_ him. Maybe he could convince Cassie to score some more of the Dragon herb for him from Mr. Singer. Wait a tick, now there's a thought. Singer was the one that discovered the herb and its connection to the kid in the first place. He'd know what it was called and where to find it.

   It was all Balthazar could do to not wake up Bobby at the ass-crack of dawn to ask him about it. He sighed heavily and smirked at his breath hanging in the air like smoke. Still chilly as a witches tit out here. He puffed out a few more times and noticed that the kid didn’t have any such breaths. Right. Cold-blooded. That must have sucked during the winter in those outdoor cages. That Azazel was _such a Tosser_. Capital 'T'. He imagined himself locking the man in an outdoor cage and watch him freeze his knob off in the snow all winter. If only they had a damned photograph of those bastards, then his blokes back home could have found them within the hour with Brandon's facial recognition spy ware. Their new program was able to send out a request to every single street camera in the united states to BOLO whatever face it was uploaded with. Shame they didn't have it up and running when they were looking for the Winchesters ages ago, could have saved themselves some time. And when it did go online, it had simply slipped his mind to look because he was more concerned about his best friend falling for a man that had an all-you-can-take-buffet of problems. The topmost ingredient being the fact that he was the wrong specie, and secondly that Dean was a few tons too big for decent coitus. And completely nutters. Because who in their right mind takes on a big Momma Dragon _solo_? No plan, no back-up, according to his files, the formerly human Dean Winchester just had a GED and a 'give 'em hell' attitude backing him up while Sam was busy taking out the Dragon's back-up.

   Balthazar pursed his lips. He wouldn't want to have to face that impossible situation. He looked over to Cassie and Dean again. How far would he have gone to keep Cassie safe from the biggest monster alive? Animal mothers are the fiercest things alive when it comes to protecting their young. Dean must have been out of his mind. Or, perhaps, was acting like Sam's guardian. Watching out for him like only a big brother could.

   Balthazar always felt protective of his best friend. Even though he knows for a fact that Castiel can take care of himself, he still feels like Cassie is his younger brother. Balthazar would like to think that he'd do the same as Dean, but he just didn't know. When push comes to shove, would he have the courage to take on a massive, pissed off monster with impossible odds? Back then, there were simply too many problems all happening at once for them to handle. After seeing what the older hunter and Sam had planned for taking down the entire warehouse with just the two of them, Balthazar had no doubt in his mind that if given time and resources, the two brothers could have come up with a plan to take down the mother with no problem.

   Speaking of problems, that thought jarred his mind back to the task at hand. He read the translated notes, then the original text in the book and then tried to suss out if there were any major flaws in the notes versus original text. He was not that well versed in the language of long dead witches, and had to trust that what he was reading was written by someone that knew more about this kind of thing then he did. So far, it seemed legit. He couldn’t wait for the hunters to wake up to run this idea over with them. He briefly thought of doing it himself as a surprise gift to the merry band but ultimately decided to leave it to the professionals. He didn’t want to be the one shrunk for his troubles.

   He dog-eared the page as best he could, fervently ignoring how much it looked like stretched tanned skin, and set it down quietly onto the trunk of the car. He walked towards Dean and Cassie again, double checking that everything was still good in their neck of the woods, and grinned to himself again for being quiet enough to go unnoticed. If they needed someone to stalk about later, he'd be the first to volunteer. He silently opened up his car door and climbed back in and tried to warm up a little and sleep for just a little longer. He dozed off just as another was starting to stir.

   Sam woke up next and turned on the car for a few minutes with the heater on high. It was criminal to wake up in a cold car. Bobby looked like he was fighting a cold and Sam kicked himself for not waking up sooner to warm up the car in the night. Bobby shouldn't even be out here, but he couldn't deny the fact that he needed backup, nor that Bobby would pull a shotgun on him if he tried to leave him at home.

   Sam sat upright immediately and realized for the first time that it was daylight out. Cas hadn't come by to wake him up for his shift. Something was wrong. He should have come by _hours_ ago.

   Sam left the car running as he tumbled nearly face first out of the car. Just barely catching his balance as both feet were still asleep when they were wedged under the brake and gas petals all night long. Sam's mind started to chant, 'please-be-ok-please-be-ok' as he stumbled over to his brother. He saw him all folded in on himself in an exact replica of the toddler version of himself so very long ago on Bobby's spare bed. He made a slightly more elongated egg this time and his wicked sharp back spikes definitely destroyed the illusion of a harmless egg. He was about to call out for Castiel when he noticed the corner of the blanket he gave the man last night, peeking out from Dean's wings.

   Sam stifled a laugh when he realized that Dean was using the man as a personal space heater. Just like he'd been used back in the semi trailer when Dean was asleep and shivering. As he rounded the tail end to get a little closer, he saw Castiel's hand was outside of the wing cocoon and twitched in the cold morning air. At least Dean didn’t wake him up. Sam walked over to the fire embers and coals and could smell the deer jerky wafting in the air. He was surprised Dean wasn't up and salivating yet. Sam tapped at the thin venison legs sticking out from the smoldering embers, making sure they weren't too hot to touch, and pulled on the rear hooves of the animal to move it off to the side. He wanted to add more tinder and branches to get a decent fire going to warm his brother up so he can release their friend. They had a very long day ahead of them and Dean would be more comfortable and willing to run if he was completely warmed up. Since Dean seemed to have pulled Castiel right off of the grass bed, Sam managed to use most of the dry grasses for the fire. It smoked a little and his tired mind didn't think about worrying about it.

   He pulled out his pocket knife and started to prepare a little of the deer meat for breakfast. He wondered if there was something in the trunk for a bit of variety. One cannot live on meat alone. The brain needs carbs and sugars to work efficiently. He walked over to the car and noticed one of their old spell books resting innocuously on top. His heart started to pound a little. Someone had been snooping through their things. His gaze shot up and around, scanning the trees and shrubs for any sign of disturbance. Nothing. He mentally shrugged, since they were all still alive and well here, it must have been either Castiel or Balthazar. Dean couldn’t have opened the trunk without denting the hell out of it, and Bobby wouldn’t have left it out in the open like that. Ancient spell books made with human skin pages do not like water or humidity and the morning dew on everything was seen as bacteria riddled spheres. He picked up the leather book with a bit more anger then warranted. Castiel and Balthazar were tagging along. And now one of them, or maybe even both, were sticking their noses into things that civilians shouldn't even know about. Bad enough that they knew about the spell they were planning to put Dean under, but to browse around in such an evil book was simply dangerous stupidity. He flipped the pages and noticed one was actually bent. Didn't they ever hear of bookmarks? These things don’t bounce back from that kind of thing. The other spell book was just paper pulp, this one... ungh. It's also disrespectful to the people the skin was taken from. Most likely victims of some curse. Sam wished that he could burn or bury the book to lay them to rest, but there was no telling what would happen if he tried to destroy it. A supernatural booby-trap. Wouldn't be the first time. Sam scowled to himself as he looked over the saved page. A spell about lifting a curse on a land or provenience, and on the other side, a spell to reduce the size of living creatures. Sam looked to the other two pages next to the bent one and it sported the beginning parts of the land spell, and the other side had a spell to change hair color. What the hell? He brought the book back into the car with him so he'd stop shivering outside. The heat felt so damned nice and he wanted to just sink right into the seat.

   He read through the pages twice before sighing in frustration. What the hell did any of these have to do with turning a dragon back into a human? Sam put the old book onto the dashboard to help the pages dry out again. He'd have to question the others about it later.

   His stomach growled at him but the meat was still outside and inside the car was just too nice and warm to leave. He felt for Castiel, stuck there inside the wing tent till Dean lets him out. He knew that his brother would wake up if he felt his heater loosing heat. If Castiel got too cold, Dean would no doubt try and warm him back up again at the bonfire. At least Dean was making sure Castiel was comfortable. For that short amount of time that Dean had held Sam, it was actually quite nice when he just relaxed and let Dean cuddle. Hearing the heavy slow heartbeat and the rhythmic raising and falling of the body, acted like a white noise generator. A constant sound just loud enough to drown out the outside world, but quiet and steady, a reassuring sound that meant his protector was still there, alive, healthy, and safe. Sam got settled into the driver's seat again, laying back against the door and backrest, and angling his feet away from the pedals to avoid another foot cramp. He sent a tired glance to the rear view mirrors. The heaters were still on full blast and the chill was gone, so he turned the car off again to save on gas.

   He saw Dean move just enough to wrap a wing over the fire to warm it up but not smother it. Sam needn’t worry about Castiel breathing in the smoke because Dean just happened to be using the wing with the hole in it. He must be just awake enough to plan that move. Sam grinned and knew that both Castiel and Dean were in good hands.

   Dean's eye cracked open. Cracked being the choice word here due to the sound of the dry crust that formed all along his eyelids. Bits of it fell down and onto Cas's exposed arm, he recoiled it closer to himself and sighed in his sleep. Unconsciously snuggling closer to the bigger body. Dean blinked a few times and looked down at where the movement was felt. Oh. Cas must be cold. When the hell did he sneak into bed with him? No matter. If Cas is cold, then there's something he can do about that. He shifted very slowly so that Cas was no longer laying on his right wing's index finger and very slowly stretched it out over the fire. Must have been a big fire for it to still be burning this well. He cupped his wing hand around the fire and felt like purring at the warmth that he could feel flowing along the blood vessels. He angled his wing hand over the top part of the fire to allow the smoke to raise up and out of the ripped, but healing, hole. At least it's good for something. The sting of the scab cracking along the edges of the opening were ignored in favor of the warmth that dulled the pain. The chill in the air was a hairs breath from giving him muscle cramps. Everything is better when he's warm. He could feel a few waves of micro-shivers coming from Cas and he murmured for him to just relax and wait a minute for the heat to travel into Dean's body and then into his. Dean flexed his wing fingers and scooped up some fresh oxygen for the fire, sending a nice flame up to his wing hand. He damn near pancaked the bonfire, trying to grab the hot coals, but caught himself at the last second. Holy crap that felt nice. Already he could feel Cas relax again into Dean's chest. His tired grin got wider and he settled down again, resting his wing hand on the fire and lifting it lazily every minute or so. Keeping it burning longer by restricting the oxygen levels. No sense in wasting any of the potential heat. Which is what would happen if it was left untended. The logs would burn too fast and become cold embers before lunchtime.

   As Dean lifted up his wing and rested it again in a steady beat, he very nearly drifted off again. His left hand curled in a little more around the small body that was still pressed firmly against his chest. The scent from the body was intoxicating and soothing. He buried his nose closer to the lower half and nearly purred at the warmth between the two hind legs of his little bed mate. It felt so damned good to his soft nostrils. The scent coming from the warm body shifted ever so slightly and a pleased moan escaped the little mouth and then the larger one that was tucked just a few inches deeper.

   Castiel's dreams took an unexpected turn and he let loose another moan as he dreamed of a Dean wearing a tank top and boxers with stylized flames on them, clever fingers rubbing his inner thighs softly in all the right places to make Cas's toes curl and breath hitch but not too hard to induce tickling. Castiel hated the undignified giggle fits he used to have when having intercourse. Dean knew this and gave just enough pressure to make it feel so good. The tingles he felt trailing up and down his spine were nearly distracting enough to keep his eyes off of what Dean was doing next. Dean's plump lips parted slowly and they pressed quick chaste kisses on his collarbone. Dean must have bit him because some of those kisses had a minor sting to them if he pressed himself too close to Dean's warm mouth.

   Castiel's hands started to wander and he reached forward to pull Dean closer, chest to chest, but then he felt hard plates instead of soft skin. The tank top was lifted with a smirk from his lover and revealed a series of metal plates in a suit that covered him from his collar to waist. Wherever Castiel's hands trailed, the suit seemed to follow. He lifted up one of the plates in the grid and frowned at the sharp edge on the bottoms. The layer above it, closer to Dean's neck covering the top of the layer under. Like shingles. Or.. what was the word. Something that medieval knights wore when they were at battle.

   The whole suit of plated armor seemed to bend and move with Dean's every breath and didn't seem to be odd at all. So, Dean had a armor kink. Cas has heard of weirder things. He appreciated seeing Dean so open to showing off his fetish for armor during sex. Castiel ran a finger along one of the edges and noticed offhandedly that the plates were warm and flat on the surfaces. It caused Dean's body to shiver a little and his eyes were slowly closing. Castiel placed both hands on Dean's chest in front of him and wiggled closer to his body. All the while, Dean's soft hands wrapped around his upper thighs and knees and continued their exploration as they laid there, breathing in each others breaths. Dean began to purr appreciatively at Castiel's little moans and slowly opened up his legs while he lay on his left side facing him. Castiel dropped his hands from Dean's chest and trailed along his own thighs and stroked himself through his boxers. Dean's thumbs rubbed his inner thigh a bit firmer, a low sensual growl coming from so close, so guttural and filled with lust. Castiel growled back, whispering Dean's name over and over as a near silent plea to get on with it and stop with the foreplay. Not once did Dean speak with words, but purrs, growls and murmurs. Castiel understood him just fine. Dean was suddenly behind Castiel and slipped a knee inbetween Cas's legs. Cas couldn’t help bucking into the bed underneath him twice.

   He whined a little for Dean to push a little harder, not knowing what his plan was, was driving Cas mad. So far Dean's knee was just moving in and out from his legs, then it left, taking with it the warmth and pressure.

   Castiel murmured into his forearm under his face, “Don't leave me like this, you asshole.” His right hand dipped down into his own boxers and started without him. He felt Dean cup his right side and mumbled encouragement to his tall freckled and handsome lover. “That's it Baby, waited so long. Come on Baby.”

   Dean lifted his wing over the fire again and then brought it closer now that he felt the warmth travel towards his chest and into Cas who snuggled closer to his plated chest. Dean unconsciously nuzzled the end of his nose between Cas's hind legs and found a better kind of warmth. He breathed in Cas's scent as it went from just a hint of arousal to full blown _lust_. The end of his nose that found warmth inhaled deeply as he felt Cas's hands trail up and down his wide chest, small fingers trailing his scales, finding the edges and humming pleasantly. Dean liked that Cas was admiring his scales. Dean was worried that Cas wouldn't find them attractive because they were so different to Cas's skin. He liked the new sounds and scents that Cas was sharing, all doubt that Cas couldn't love him were eased out of his half asleep mind. They could make this work. Dean rumbled as his nose dipped in and out of Cas's legs. That seemed to make Cas _very_ happy. Even though Dean was drifting off to sleep again, he knew that this was it. This is all he wanted in a mate. A lover. Simple acceptance. Dean didn't care if he never fathered a nest, Cas was all he needed.

   Dean's mind slowly changed gears, the human side of him slightly more in charge as it was a human that lay before him writhed in his arms. A very attractive human that was making all kinds of sounds that heated him up from the inside out. He bobbed his face in and out from his lover's legs, sleepily prepping him. Never questioning why he didn't feel the other's soft cheeks, just the feel of cloth for some reason. Cas didn't seem to mind, maybe he liked being dry humped like a teenager. Dean didn't question why, when he placed his left hand around and then underneath his Cas, that it took up all of his lovers right side, he gently stroked Cas's arm. His grin grew as he heard Cas whine for more, begging, bucking into the bed and encouraging him to do more. Castiel's musk overpowered everything 'dragon' in Dean's mind for that short time he was still nearly asleep. Dean found himself murmuring things to Castiel that he was only distantly aware of. Human Dean started in with the pillow talk to Cas. He snuggled a little closer and thought it was odd that Cas felt so small and fragile, but still felt the overwhelming desire and want exuding from his very pores.

   'Cas.' Dean growled softly, 'I'm gonna treat you so good, never want for anything. You are.... damn you are so hot.' he inhaled again, feeling more then seeing Cas buck into the bed again. With careful hands, he stroked the small body pressed close to him. 'I got ya. I got ya.' he hummed and felt his own member come to attention. His dreaming mind looked down and saw himself pitching a tent and then suddenly, the boxers parted and he was out there in the open. He faced the bed, careful not to crowd Cas and started to move slowly, painfully slowly downwards into the bed as well. He felt a deep rumbling in his own chest and didn't even question why it sounded like purring. Guy's purred all the time. Natural to purr when you got the worlds hottest guy underneath you, humping the life out of your bed. Only natural to join in. And if you happen to be 20 times bigger, then who cares? Not like he's squishing Cas with each thrust, just, sharing in the waves of judgment free bliss. Cas was sure loving the hell out of it. Dean lifted up one eye at a particularly loud cry of pleasure and felt himself getting to that point himself. He dipped his hips deeper into the bed and just the scent that came from Cas's release was enough to tip him over the edge before he'd even gotten a hand down there.

   Dean felt his body sag to the left again, and laid down heavily just far enough away from Cas to not crush him. Not exactly what he was hoping for when he first had fantasy's about making love with Cas, but still, that was _awesome_. He felt his member duck back into his boxers, and that too felt totally normal, and expected. Dean very gently patted Cas's back and grinned at the tired but happy moan it elicited. Next time they might actually _touch_ each other when they do it. Dean dipped his head down and nuzzled Cas's back and fell into a very deep sleep.

   Castiel eventually woke up to the sound of someone laughing their ass off and someone else sputtering out half syllables. Then a third sound of someone shuffling up to the other two and muttering, 'Idjits.' before continuing their tired shuffle walk towards the creek. Castiel reluctantly opened up his eyes and saw two blurry figures standing off to the side. Both pointedly looking away now, and the taller one actually whistling nonchalantly as if he wasn't just staring a moment ago.

   Castiel's voice came out far far deeper then even he'd ever heard it before. “What's going on guys?”

   That just made Balthazar laugh harder and actually stumble around, trying desperately to get some air into his lungs. Between fits, he managed to blurt out, “Couldn't save it...” snickering, “save it for the honey...” more guffaws, “honeymoon?” he finished with one hand covering his mouth and the other out and waving around as if that would steady him.

   Sam glared at Balthazar but the laughter was infections and he huffed before looking pointedly away but finger pointing in the general direction of his 'bed'.

   Cas followed the hand and all of the blood drained from his face.

   Sam deserved a medal for what he said next, “Balthazar and I are going to be over there... fishing. For about an hour. So uh, if you have anything to take care of, you can.. uh... take care of it.”

   Balthazar's snickering was under slightly better control now that he sees the horrified look on his best friend's face. He coughed into his hand and then sobered up a little bit, “Yeah, gonna go fishing. Fishing with my new friend Sam.” he said and turned around towards the car. Castiel noticed that they took absolutely nothing with them to the creek, but at least they took their attention away.

   Castiel's embarrassment was the worst it had ever been. His only saving grace was that it was just in front of three people and not thousands. He hoped that they'd drop it before Dean woke up. Castiel doesn’t have any idea what he's gonna do or say once Dean realizes what happened when they were sleeping. Oh shit. Maybe Dean wasn't sleeping. Maybe.... _fuck_!

   Castiel stumbled out of the thin layer of grass that had been dragged with him when Dean hugged him last night. He looked down at himself and his cheeks burned again with the evidence of his shame now crusting on his pants. Fuck. His mind tried in vain to point out that at least he wasn't 'exposed' while he had his wet dream. One glance towards Dean however told him that the dragon couldn't help it. The puddle that had partially seeped into the ground was as impressive as it was disturbing. How could one being produce that much 'release'? Damn. He needed some coffee. And a brain enema.

   His whole body tensed when Dean shifted a little closer to the fire. Wings lazily folding up and then drooping back down, nearly knocking Castiel over. He jolted back to the present and knew that he needed to spare Dean the embarrassment of last night and this morning before it even happened. He didn’t need to know that Sam and Balth and Bobby all saw it. _Them_. _Together._ Cas knew what it was like to be made fun of for crap he couldn’t control. Of course, having a funny name didn't really equal _that._ Seriously. How could all that fit in that? His gaze went to the slightly raised bump between Dean's thighs. And then to the impressive puddle of half dried seed that was under Dean's belly three feet or so further up. His damned analytical mind figured Dean really did have a massive penis hidden in that innocuous sheath. He looked to where he was sleeping and shuttered. Then checked his shoes. A few drops had landed on the soles. Holy hell. Cas is in way over his head.

   Dean mumbled something in his sleep as Castiel quietly went to work, using the grass to mop up what he could from under Dean and burn it. He kicked dirt over the rest and tried very hard to hide all evidence. He was just finishing up when Dean rolled over onto his belly and winced a little, lifting up his lower belly between his ankles and feet and arching his back a little. Must be sore. Poor guy was probably trying to get some friction in all the wrong places. Cas's cheeks started to burn again so he stalked over to the big black car. He pulled off his pants and replaced them with a spare set of pants that Sam said was in there. These happened to be Dean's and a little loose on him. Thankfully he still had his belt and walked back towards the fire, old black pants in hand and soon on fire. Since the others were at the creek he couldn’t wash them off, and with Dean's impeccable sense of smell, the scent would just cause confusion or more embarrassment for either one or both of them. He had to burn them.

   Dean's injured right wing opened up again and laid on the fire for a few minutes. A deep rumble coming from him before he let the wing up again to feed oxygen to the fire. Dean's heavy head lifted from the ground when he heard Cas get closer. He tilted it in the air and let it rest again facing him. A tired pleased grin was on his face and he attempted a 'good morning' chirp which came out awkward, deep, and very rough. Dean shrugged one wing shoulder and sighed happily.

   Castiel had never, _ever_ seen him so peaceful. Not even watching him sleep last night compared to this. His brain decided once again to be inappropriate and analyze it, noting that Dean never had sex before in this body. Of course the guys gonna be happy. He must have had the _blue-est_ of balls. The other part of his mind snickered a laugh then shut up again out of respect. Dean had no chance at all to find a mate, he just latched onto the first person that he liked that wasn't family. A painful twinge behind Castiel's ribs had him wince inwardly. That's all this was. Dean was just a frustrated virgin. And even though they didn't actually have intercourse, like, _at all_...masturbatory sexsomnia _doesn't_ count. Dean must have thought it was close enough. The look in the massive dragon's face said it all. He was satisfied. Happy.

   Castiel knew that Dean probably didn’t know why he felt so good, just that he woke up that way. The others would still be gone for at least another 20 minutes. What to do. Tell Dean what happened? Wait and see if he remembered anything? Or just pretend it never happened. The answer is C, for coward.

   Dean cleared his throat, no small task, and chirped a proper 'good morning' to Cas.

   Cas managed to say, “Good morning, Dean.” before he had to turn away again. He could hear Dean chirp again and pretended not to hear him as he rummaged pointlessly in the trunk just for something to do to waste time. He heard Dean move a little, the heavy thumps of him getting to his feet and then the grating sound of his claws digging into the dirt and rocks as he stretched out his front half then each leg. A few gusts of wind heralded the wing stretch portion of his wake up routine and he flinched when he heard Dean's sharp intake of breath. He knew his friend either saw or smelled what happened last night and gave Dean a minute to come to terms with it. He loudly rummaged in the trunk and said loud enough for Dean's benefit, “Aha, found it.” without turning around he said over his shoulder, “Dean? I'm gonna be at the creek with the others, be back in a few.” and walked away. He could hear Dean's not so subtle exhale of relief and once he got into the treeline, he could hear the scrabbling of dirt and plants. Dean was trying to hide the evidence.

   'Too late.' Castiel frowned and kept on walking. He met up with Sam and Balthazar at the creek next to the large rock Sam had stopped at to disrobe yesterday. “Umm, uhh...” Castiel started, stopped, and didn't look like he was planning on starting again. The ground was suddenly very interesting and he decided to count how many blades of grass were in the world.

   Sam tentatively walked up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. The height difference between them was almost a comfort now. Like Sam was his own big brother reassuring him. “Happens to everyone.” and shrugged noncommittally. “It just means that... my brother likes you.”

   Balth gave a sideways smirk and nodded. “We were just teasing. No worries.” he then threw a round rock into the creek, clearly expecting it to skip which made Castiel laugh.

   Sam shook his head at Balthazar and continued with a somewhat hushed voice, “I actually know for a fact that he likes you. And I'm ok with that, with you guys. Uh, together.” Sam seemed to be searching for something in his expression but was just getting back a blank slate. “I mean, are you? Together?”

   That made Balth turn his head to the side to see the reaction. After a silent moment he said to Sam, “He's had the hots for Dean back when he was human. I've known Cassie nearly all our adult lives. He'll be good to him.” and gave a genuine smile this time.

   Castiel nearly balked, “Dean's not some maiden that needs your permission to date me! He's a grown man and can make up his mind for himself!” his voice carried a little into the woods. He jerked his head back towards the campsite. Color draining from his face once again. Damn it. Dean probably heard that. He looked to the others for some kind of guidance on what to say next. Dean must be freaking out now.

   Balth spoke up, detecting the nervousness. “I totally agree.” he also said a little louder for the guy not present, “All we are saying is that it's cool with us. We accept whatever you two decide.” and nodded towards Sam.

   “Yeah, I mean, I know my brother better then anyone, and if he likes someone, then I know that they are good. Trustworthy. And _worth_ it. And I just want him and you to be happy.” And grinned to Castiel, “I honestly mean that.” he whispered and slapped his hand on Cas's shoulder again. He said quietly, “I think we give him another minute then head back. He's gonna pretend he didn't hear us and then offer us some food while he sits on his bed, covering up as much of it as he can.” he then added to Balth, “What do you wanna bet?”

   “This tea plate of pure silver.” he then lifted up one of Dean's shed aluminum metal flakes.

   “You're on. And if I somehow lose, I have to swim buck naked in this creek.” Balth accepted the bet, and Sam shook on it. He noticed that wasn't the only metal flake in the water. He just hoped that they'd be long gone before anyone noticed the mineral deposits from Dean's bath yesterday. He vowed to rid Dean of the rest of the metal asap.

   After a few minutes back at the campsite, Balth handed over the metal plate and Sam went about polishing it up and admiring the aluminum in the sun. “Lucky guess.” Balth muttered.

   Bobby came back from wherever he buggered off to, using his cane to push the tall weeds and grass aside more then to walk with. “There's another deer trail out about a mile and a half that way.” he thumbed behind himself and nodded towards Dean. “Go getcha some breakfast.”

   Dean shook his head, he pretended he wasn't hungry. Everyone could see he was all nerves. Probably just waiting for someone to notice his torn up bed, say something about it. Cas could tell that he was trying to come up with a plausible excuse or reason when they inevitably asked. Dean's breaths gradually calmed down the longer the others talked about random stuff. Taking the tension out of the air. Dean even joined in the chat after a little while. The sun was overhead and warming up the campsite.

   Turns out that Dean wasn't the only nervous one there, Balthazar took a deep breath and stood up. The others looking towards him. “I have an idea.” The rest waited for him to elaborate. Sam now knew who it was that removed the book and leaned forward to hear the reason why. “I took the liberty of perusing your limited library,” a hand swept to the two spell books in the car. “And I think I have the answer to our problem.”

   “We already know how to change him back.” Bobby rolled his eyes and used his cane to nudge a log closer to Dean to drop into the fire.

   “Ok, that may be true, but there is another problem. I don't know if you realize this, but Dean is quite large.”

   “Understatement.” Castiel mumbled. And nearly choked on his mouthful of venison when he realized his own double entendre. One glance at Balth's mirth-filled eyes tells him that slip up wasn't missed. At least he had the decency to ignore it.

   “I found a spell in the book that can help us take him home. Or at least to your friend, Rufus Turner's cabin.” His hand waved towards the Impala's direction as the sole means of transportation. “A miniaturization spell.” he said with flourish, then held out both hands as if expecting applause.

   What he got were either blank or confused faces. On Dean a bit of both.

   “All we have to do, is gather up a few ingredients and Bobby's your uncle, we can double bag the dragon.” He wouldn't let the others drag him down with their lack of enthusiasm. He strolled up to the car and after hunting it down again, retrieved the book and brought it back to the small group. “The spell looks easy enough, and I would have done it myself last night but I wanted to discuss it with the experts.” he handed the book over to Bobby since Sam looked a little miffed about someone else touching his toys.

   Bobby read the spell, this time clearly taking a closer look at it then he had before they'd found Dean. He then re-read his notes and tried to remember if there was anything missing from his own notes when he translated it months ago. He pursed his lips as he thought and eventually came to the conclusion that the idea had some merit. He just couldn’t believe it was coming from the English pothead.

   Bobby's gruff voice spoke up after placing a finger to the ingredients, “We have half of this in the car. But we'd need to fetch the rest.” he rubbed his hand over his thick beard, thinking it over and adding all the angles and things that could go wrong. Sam knew that look, Bobby was sold on it and now he was figuring out the logistics.

   Balthazar's grin got wider, pleased that he could contribute to the cause. For a little while there he felt like the third wheel. “Yes! I was thinking that we can up the dosage to account for something of Dean's girth and simply drive him back to Chateau Turner.”

   Castiel was sitting on Dean's right forearm at this point and looked up at his friend. “What do you think?” he asked the head directly over him.

   Dean tilted it to the side so he could see Cas and shrugged his wings. He lifted up his other hand and signed, 'whatever you think is best' as he was looking at Sam. Castiel turned his head back down. Of course Dean would defer to his brother's judgment. Castiel was no hunter, spell chanter, or supernatural specialist. Well, not as _big_ of one. A lifetime of Cryptozoology studies wasn't quite as good as being surrounded, hunted, and being hunted by the things he just studied. The difference between watching an action hero and being the action hero. Of course Sam would know more about the risks involved.

   Sam dipped his head in thought. Bobby said, “I think it's worth a shot.” and shut the book firmly. That settled it.

   Dean chirped for attention, 'how small?'

   “It would have to be pretty small. The car already has 4 grown men in it. You'd have to be no bigger then a dog.”

   “Or cat.” Sam suggested.

   Dean rolled his eyes and signed, 'why not rat?'

   The others eyebrows peeked in interest. Dean's spirit sunk. Of course they'd go for that one. The smaller he is, the easier it will be to hide him. Juuuuust great.

   “That would be easier actually, I'm pretty confident I can change this line here to mean that however big the thing was to the person casting the spell, it will now be that proportionally smaller. Our size to him is just a handful, so him to us would be that after the spell. A very small lizard with wings.” Bobby held out his hands to only 5 inches apart.

   Dean flexed his hand and remembered how small they were compared to his hand. Tables would turn.

   Cas laid a hand to Dean's big forearm underneath him. “Don't worry, I'll protect you the whole time.” and started to rub a hand up and down Dean's arm. Dean's doubts started to fade at that. “I know I could trust you with my life when you hold me, please, trust me with yours.”

   Dean lifted up his hand and signed, 'I do.' and looked over to Bobby with the book.

   A rough plan of action is formed and Dean's stomach is the only thing that distracts them. Cas got to his feet and dusted off the pants he stole from Dean's duffel. Only now does Sam notice that and at first he's upset that Cas is wearing Dean's things, but then shoves that possessiveness aside. Dean's cloths lost his human scent months ago. Replaced by the scents that permeate the car. Besides, Dean is now looking at Cas all heart-eyes. Man their constant longing stares are gross as hell. But he gets it. It's probably the same feeling he had when Jess stole one of his oversized shirts as a nightgown.

   Sam had to swallow several times, the old emotions coming back unexpectedly. He looked over to Dean and Cas again. He wants Dean to have a happy ending to his story. And that wont happen if he's not human.

   Bobby and Sam talk among themselves while Dean is encouraged to finish off what the others didn't of the deer that cooked overnight. Dean hummed happily as he gnawed on the deer jerky and then crunched up the bones. After the first bite into bone, he tensed but the others just looked to him for a moment before ignoring the sound. He took that as a go-ahead and went to town on the bones and marrow inside. Not as fresh as if it was a recent kill, but still, the marrow was always the best bit on the animal. He sucked it out of the large femur and saw Cas blushing furiously from his seat on the log next to Balthazar. What's that all about? Like he'd never seen someone tongue out the inside of a deep shaft before. Dean held onto the bone in his right hand and licked it clean of meat on the outsides, suckling the insides, and moaning at how good that tasted. Slick wet sounds filled the air along side deep, needy groans.

   “Damn near pornographic.” Balthazar chuckled silently and Cas nudged him hard in the side.

   The loud crunch of bone had both men crossing their legs with hands shooting down as added protection. Castiel winced and Balth refrained from commenting beyond, “Good luck, lover boy.” to which Castiel wanted to shoot his best friend in the fucking face. Dean crunched on, completely oblivious.

   After going over the list of ingredients and the altered quantities, they decide to do the shrinking spell today, but know that it's only temporary, lasting a day tops. If they do it again, he might end up even smaller. And the transition back to his huge self will be slower going. They planned on administering a little at a time so they don't overdue it. Who knows how much it would hurt Dean. There was a mention of minor discomfort, but, that coming from a witch torturing victims, that could mean anything. Sam insisted he tried the potion first to make sure it was safe for Dean but that idea got nixed right away. Sam was human, Dean was a dragon. That difference alone would make the test null and void.

   Sam was starting to not like this idea, but was overruled by the others and the timetable. They simply didn’t have the time for Dean to walk to Rufus' cabin. And even if they did, if Dean is seen by _literally anybody_ , there will be trouble.

   Bobby spoke up first after the plan was laid out. “Welp, this sounds good, but, I have one question. Were you planning on making him travel size before or after the Impala was out of the woods and on the road?”

   All eyes go to the Impala then to Dean who rolled his. He can take a hint. Bobby and Sam held him back while they unloaded the car of the extra baggage so it would be easier and somewhat lighter to lift. Not that loosing a couple hundred pounds really makes a difference when dealing with a car that weighed over a ton, but, Dean appreciated the consideration.

   He carefully picked Baby up again and tilted her the same way as last night and shuffled over to the road again. Feeling better and stronger now that he had gotten a decent sized meal and a long nights rest. The others provided cover fire for the potential threat that they'd face once on the road again. So far so good. No one else was seen or heard going down the road since they left it. Maybe it took longer for Michael's gang to recuperate and regroup after the warehouse fire.

   In any case, Dean set the Impala down once again and took a few steps back into the woods to catch his breath while hidden. The others repacked the car, putting whatever they could into the trunk to make room for the car's fifth passenger. No one was sure just how big Dean would be once shrunk down in size. Could be horse sized, or teacup swimming chihuahua. They'd know once the effects wear off. For now, they needed to go to the store to get the ingredients for the spell. Bobby left with Balthazar to find them, while Sam and Cas stayed behind with Dean and a fair amount of weapons for defense. Once Dean caught his breath again, he went further into the woods and decided to go hunting again. Already he was famished. And since they were planning on shrinking him anyway, it didn't matter if he grew from this buffet in the woods.

   Dean looked over to Sam and raised an eyebrow.

   Sam knew what he wanted to ask and debated on if it was a good idea to split up again. “How about we, uh, how about you give us a lift while you track it down then let us off when you get close enough. That way we don’t have to try and chase after you so far.”

   Dean thought about it and nodded firmly. He then laid down next to a fallen tree a little ways away and with an index finger motioned for them to come on over. Sam slung up his backpack first, and Dean lifted him onto his back with his wing wrist again just like old times. Castiel was next and Dean tried not to squirm too much at the fact that neither man knew how to walk or sit on a sharp spinney dragon. Dean turned his head to see them and wanted to suggest that they just sit next to each other on either side of the spikes. His back was wide enough now...

   Cas seemed to know what Dean was thinking and suggested it. “You get the right side and I’ll get the left. Then we can just, I dunno, slide off the front end when he needs to take off running.”

   Sam looked around his seat and agreed. The tracking went pretty well, all of them trying to be quiet while Dean lifted one wing at a time from the ground up to his nose. Cas had to force himself not to ask questions even though Dean's method of hunting was unlike anything he'd seen before. Of course, not many puma's or wolves had massive wings to funnel scents up from the ground to their heads perched on long necks. Sometimes Dean would just dip his nose to the ground to sniff but it looked like he preferred the eagle eye view instead and just brought up the scents to him.

   The massive body tensed underneath the men and they in turn looked around, alarmed at the shift in demeanor. Dean hunched down and wiggled his shoulders under their butts and they took the hint. Sliding down the front end and landing some 10 feet below into a crouch for Sam, and in a heap for Cas. Cas felt slightly dizzy from the drop, it was like willingly falling off of a garage roof. Dean kept his eyes peeled towards the movement in the woods ahead. He turned both sidefan ears to the sides and made sure that the others had made it clear of his path. He gingerly stepped past their hunched bodies and once he was free, bolted into the woods.

   The swiftness of his nearly silent movements shocked Castiel. He'd never seen Dean move like that. It was obvious now that Dean had been taking the utmost care in each step when they were on him, but now, he could leap and run and swerve without having to worry about bucking off anyone.

   “Like a cat...” Castiel muttered. Sam came over and helped him to his feet, dusting off the dry leaves and twigs from the tan trench coat.

   Sam picked up the bag of guns and munitions and slung it over his back. He shrugged, “He's kinda like that when he was human too. At least when there was a reason to be quiet and fast.” he then added after a moment, “more like a wolf when he's hunting with me or someone else. Circling the thing we are after and cutting off its escape route. he likes to be the bait and put himself in danger just so we could get a clear shot of the distracted monster.”

   Castiel gaped at him. Dean would willingly put himself in harms way just for his brother to have a _chance_ at shooting the monster? What if it didn't work? What if the monster caught him first? He mentally stomped on his foot. That last hunt he had been on was the one time where the monster got him. Sam nodded a little, guilt plastered all over his face. Castiel knew he had to say something to lighten the mood. “Look, from what I understand, from what Bobby had told us last night, is that nothing you could have done would have changed what happened.”

   Sam rolled his eyes and trudged after his brother. Castiel had to jog to catch up, “No. This is important.” his voice took on that deep authoritative tone that Sam recalled from the warehouse that demanded attention. “What you did was very brave. It is not your fault that the dragon mother caught him. It probably would have happened anyway. You both were doing something that was next to impossible, and came out alive.

   Sam scoffed at that but Castiel just raised a hand for him to be quiet. “Bobby said that you both went in thinking it was a... Vellum?” Sam nodded, “and from what I gathered is that Vellum are monstrously dangerous. More-so then 'regular' monsters.”

   Sam grimaced and nodded. Vellum were damn near impossible to kill. Most hunters die going after them. They were right up there with the rare demons. Bobby must have shared that bit of information with the two civilians. Of course, Sam should stop referencing them as that. They knew more about the supernatural then your average person. Even if their only tactile evidence was Dean, so far, they had done their research into the others in the past few months. Fast learners and listened to the stories with a willingness to believe. But also to test the stories and evidence to prove their validity. They were not blind followers, they were trying to make it make sense in the world that they knew exists. Sam grew up knowing that monsters exist. These two believed and tried to prove they do. He could respect that.

   Castiel continued, “So what would you call someone that went in, knowing that the chances of survival were slim, to kill something that would have decimated a towns worth of people if they'd walked into the woods?”

   “Stupid.” Sam shrugged the munitions bag up higher and started walking again. Dean was heard a quarter mile ahead, he must have found more then one deer. He liked to eat one and bring home the other.

   “Brave. Selfless, courageous,” Castiel looked like he wanted to go on but Sam raised his hand for the adulation to stop.

   “We went in with the wrong information. I should have known it wasn't a Vellum. I was the one doing the research.”

   “With Bobby.” Cas pointed out.

   “I am the one responsible for getting my brother cursed. That's my fault. I should have scouted out the area better, I should have packed more then just the coral bullet gun and a rifle. I should have brought in an army of hunters once I found out what it was. Due to better research _I should have done_!” Sam was getting pissed now, at himself, the mother dragon, the ones that took Dean, and then, surprisingly enough, he found himself pissed at _Dean_. Why didn’t his brother retreat? Why did the jerk have to be the bait for the monster? Didn't he realize that the thing was a bit bigger then their usual hunt? Why the fuck didn't Dean listen to him when he said to stay away from it? Why did Dean _leave_ him.

   That last thought shocked Sam into silence.

   He didn't really blame Dean for taking off like that. For taking on the monster solo. It was in his older brother's nature. Sam knew that Dean would never have his little brother be the bait. Ever.

   Castiel wasn't listening in on Sam's revelation, as he continued, “Bobby said he thought it was a vellum too. And he's the expert! The one that knows so much more about monsters that other experts defer to his knowledge! And if someone as skilled and intelligent and well versed in monsters thought it was one thing, there's really no reason to beat yourselves up for making a mistake!” he caught himself and added, “And it's not Bobby’s fault either! There honestly was no reason for you to believe that a fire breathing beast from beyond legends was kidnapping mothers from the small town of Freedersville in the United States of America! _Especially_ not nowadays.” he lifted out his arms to the side, “Who would have guessed _that_? The odds against it are astronomical. It isn't _anybody's_ fault. And besides that, we are going to fix it right?”

   Sam was about to protest but it got caught in his throat. He had to forgive himself. Dean already said he did. Why was this so hard? 'Because Dean was the one that got caught and you didn't.' His subconscious pointed out. 'Survivors guilt' it added helpfully for a change. He had to stop beating himself up. Over and over again. Stop thinking about 'what if's' dealing with the past and focus on the 'what now's' of the future. Deal with the current problems and forgive the rest. Why was this so damned hard.

   Dean came back to them, with a full stomach and a wide grin. From the look of it, he'd gotten two more deer this morning and enjoyed every morsel. As he ambled along back to the others, Castiel noticed for the first time that Dean actually had bowlegs. It wasn't obvious before because he'd never walked more then a dozen steps but now, seeing him casually walk towards them, he could clearly see that his knees swung out from his belly with every step.

   Sam didn't comment at all, Dean probably had bowlegs in his former life as well. Makes sense that it would follow him to this life too. Even if his body was drastically different, some characteristics had to come from somewhere. Castiel thought it looked cute. He couldn’t wait to get Dean changed back to see how those legs moved in his proper human skin. All the photo's he'd gotten before were still shots. Dean was like a super model. Even with the few 'flaws'. They didn't hinder his appearance, they simply made it unique. Cas imaged a great big burly man with freckles and bowlegs and snickered a little. A ping of desire going off briefly in his mind as he watched the dragon come closer but imagining it was the ripped hunter that he knew he'd soon see if all went well.

   Dean slowed his walk and sniffed the air a little then narrowed his sights on Castiel. Cas felt a little shiver go up his spine at being singled out like that. Anticipation and a hint of nervousness now tinged his thoughts. Could dragon's read minds? Dean blew out a puff of air from his nose and sniffed again, as if he was ridding old scents and replacing them with fresh ones. Oh crap. Dean can't read minds but he can sure as hell read pheromone signatures like a scholar. Cas tried and failed to think unsexy thoughts about Dean. The more he tried to block his new embarrassing thoughts, the worse they got like a never ending cycle of 'What if he said he wanted you back?' 'What if, when he turns back, he wanted to still hang out, be together?' 'What if he wanted to do the same lascivious things to you as you want to do with him?' 'What does he look like naked.' 'What if Balthazar is right and they tried to have sex now and I end up being skewered by that enormous penis?' 'What if I _like it_?' 'What if we do it once he's smaller?' 'What does his dick look like anyways?'

   That last one was forced out of his mind with violence and he shook his head, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, but when he looked up again, he couldn’t help that quick glance to Dean's underside and his breath stuttered at the sight. Not like he could miss it since Dean was so freakin' tall. They could walk underneath him without ducking for gods sake. Between Dean's legs was that lowered ridge of soft scales. Not anything X-rated, more like a Disney dick. Logically Cas knew that it was kept inside his body for safe keeping, but once that idea popped into his head, he found himself imagining more and more what Dean was packing in there. His eyes lingered just a fraction too long and he didn’t notice Dean's breaths quicken, nor his eyes get a little wider.

   Sam must have blinders on because he didn’t notice the change in atmosphere at all. He was too busy scanning their surroundings and listening in for sounds of an ambush.

   Dean's thoughts nearly blanked out. Cas was putting out all kinds of scents. The general consensus of them was what made his heart beat faster. No way was he getting this information right. He dipped his head down and took a good long sniff of his friend and he didn't miss the look of abject terror mixed with lust in Cas's face. The scent confirmed it though. Cas was scared shitless because now he knows that Dean knows what Cas was feeling and thinking and _wanting._ Dean's heart was going into overtime now and his brain waves flickered. Lightning flashes all over his memories and psyche. 

   The huge green eyes dilated and then winced shut to the insistent pounding of his skull. Something primal wanted out right the fuck now.

 _Dean_ was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a blast at the ChiCon2015 this last weekend and that's the reason this chapter is late, I had most of it written but I had no time to edit it and get ready for the convention. I have some videos up on my tumblr, same username - wolfie180g , and I'll be putting more up soon. the file sizes are massive because I was borrowing my best friends camera that cost more then my first car!  
> Anyway, I am sorry this one was late, but the next chapter is about 90 percent written already, I had to split it up or else this would be a 19 page chapter instead of the usual 10/11. and it would have taken even longer to edit, polish, upload.  
> Chapter title from the song, Ramble On by Led Zeppelin 
> 
> Happy Halloween everyone!  
> here is your Destiel treat!  
> now, please give me some sugar back! hahaha :)


	20. I'm the bird you cannot change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean isn't here right now, if you'd like to leave a message, scream real loud and play some Skynyrd. Our hunter's will be with you shortly. *beep*
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title from the song Freebird by Lynyrd Skynyrd   
> Now edited with a bit more text for clarifications sake. If y'all ever find a mistake, lemme know what and where it is and I'll fix it! :) thanks

Chapter 20

I'm the bird you cannot change

 

   Everything around Dean became a muddled mass of confusing signals. Signals to his brain from all kinds of overloading sensory stimuli, sight, taste, touch, hearing, smell. _Especially_ smell. Cas's specifically. His head was so full of it that everything else was effectively shut out and locked away. No room for reason. No room for rational thought. His head filled with nothing soon after. Like his body was rebooting without a manual to guide the jump start again. His eyes were quickly loosing focus, his strength was leaving him and he felt nothing after the last cognitive thought that he had, 'Where am _I_ going?' before darkness overtook his eyes and mind.

   Dean barely felt his head get heavy as he suddenly dropped to his knees and elbows. The sound and weight of the fall scared the hell out of Sam who was looking away. Did someone just drop a building behind him? Sam spun around just as the lighter ends of the dragon's wings lost the air under them like a heavy tarp falling to the ground. He immediately brought his gun up and aimed at whatever the hell knocked his brother down. He saw Castiel get back to his feet from where he had lost his balance, and hurrying to stand near Dean's head. It had made an indent in the ground from landing so hard and Dean's eyes were squinting closed. The eyes were so big that Cas could tell that he wasn't seeing anything at all. No dilating or contracting right now, simply the eyelids closing over blind eyes. The great dragon's nose flared and his breathing stuttered. Muscles twitched minutely all over the massive body. Though it looked like he was suffering from a fainting spell, stroke, or concussion, his tail was the only thing moving with a purpose; thumping the ground in sporadic tempo as if it was trying to wake up its owner. They made sure to stay out of the smash zone as it was now thrashing about behind him. When it arched overhead, Castiel covered up his head with both arms as if that would save him from the huge heavy whip. The wings took up motion now as well, shifting constantly, not enough to open up fully, thank God, but enough to send worry spiking up even further in their minds. The dragon's body stilled just as suddenly as it started. Dean was there but _not_. Not really asleep from what Castiel could tell, but far from aware of his surroundings or even his own actions.

   Sam finished his scouting of the immediate area, practically sprinting around his brother and Cas before he ran over, still holding his gun up and waving it back and forth into the surrounding trees. Shooting glares into the foliage, daring the attacker to show themselves. He knew that it must have been something like a missile or cannonball to knock Dean over like that. Even high powered rifles wouldn't be able to knock him down. They'd hurt like hell, but Dean always stayed on his feet unless he lost too much blood or the herb bullets were involved. But, everything must have burned in the warehouse so that meant that the military might be out here right now. _Fucking great._

   Meanwhile Cas was busy trying to get Dean out of the trance he was in, to calm the rapid heart rate by stroking his long nose and his damn near flushed cheeks. Castiel must have imagined it because that was an impossible feat for a cold blooded animal. “Dean, come on, tell me what's wrong. You ok? What happened? Dean! What's wrong Baby? What's going on? Are you hurt?” he got to his feet and noticed Sam circling them both again, looking for whatever took Dean down. “I don't think he was shot. I was next to him the whole time.” Castiel said, also scanning now because seeing a hunter look that on edge sent his own instincts off and running.

   Sam lowered the gun a fraction and finished his current circle to end up at Dean's head. He took one last long look around and tucked the gun back behind his waist. “What did it?”

   Castiel bit his lip. An uncharacteristic move that Sam missed as he ran his hand along Dean's nose. He trailed his fingers up to the nearest eye and eased it open carefully. Dean's eyes were dilating and contracting rapidly. As if he was trying to focus on a ladybug and a mountain at the same time. Then they seemed to slow their quick movements, coming to a rest at something unseen in the middle distance as a compromise. Sam waved his hand in front of the huge eye and they didn't follow its movements for a few moments. Then, the other eye opened as well according to Castiel's quick intake of breath and then both eyes blinked hard. The brow furrowed and a huge puff of air blew out of the nose. The head lifted up and shook a little. Eyes clenched shut and lips twitching like he was holding back a sneeze. Another long intake of breath and then he held it and let it go through his 'o' shaped mouth. He did another before opening up his eyes.

   The dragon's head was about 10 feet off the ground, held up only by his neck, as the rest of his body felt pinned tot he ground from its own weight. The dragon started scanning his surroundings but smelled something close by. Something invisible? It sniffed again at the air around him and a noise down underneath his chin immediately startled him. The damned thing was _right under him!_

   His head jerked downward and he saw _two_ things underneath, looking straight up at him before they both backed away slowly. They were close enough that if they reached, they could have grabbed his head with how tall they were. His thoughts were struggling to identify these things. He _knew_ them. Or... maybe he knew them. Of them? Did he? From where? Their scents and his thoughts kept on changing so it was hard to pick up what they were exactly. He waited until they were a sufficient distance away before he got to his shaky feet. They had their front legs up and aimed out a little at their sides. One of them, the taller one with the dark green skin, put one of the front legs up and aimed towards the dragon's head. The dragon lifted up a lip and snarled softly. Surely this little thing wasn't trying to challenge him? Was it really that stupid or was it actually dangerous and strong for it's size. The thing was no bigger then his hand. It started making some sounds. Soft noises. Maybe it was trying to discretely call for backup, or orders. The other one was shorter with even longer loose tan skins that moved with the wind. Wait, not its own skin. Coverings. The things covered themselves with them, a second stolen skin? Oh. Oh no, that's, that's just _wrong_. Unnatural. Like if a bird wore the skin of a rabbit kind of wrong.

   The dragon sneered at the thought. These things were disturbing. However, they didn't feel like they cared about the coverings. Like it was normal. Maybe it was for them. Maybe the coverings weren't once living. He took another long sniff of them and only detected the one overall scent from each one the living scent of mammal. No trace of other regular animals on them. Or at least, nothing as big as the coverings they put on themselves. Plants. Must have been made of plants. That's alright then. At least they weren't insane, wearing other animals around. He narrowed his eyes at them, trying to figure out what they were and if they were meaning to harm him. A low warning growl rumbled in his chest.

   The tan plant wearing thing looked over to the dark green plant wearing thing and then back up to him again. Both looked and smelled very frightened now. Good. They should be. They interrupted his sleep and were way too close to have been doing anything good.

   He tried to think of how he got here, what happened before now but was coming up with only vague notions of places. He looked around himself and knew this was a forest. He was born in a forest, but not this one. One long look around told him that this one was much smaller then his first forest, or rather, he was smaller. He dipped his head down and saw his body, twisting his head and taking stock. Everything was still here. His wings flapped and refolded behind him. A reassuring weight and movement. Tail swayed back and forth and then up and down, no pain or restricted movements. Very good. He'd have to take stock of the rest of his body later. He felt fine overall, a little sore, and his head hurt a bit. His wing twitched and told him that it was injured but not much. Mostly it was his head. The constant throbbing coming in steady beats. Pulsing around behind his eyes and hurting his whole fuzzy head. He took a deep breath and let it out again, the throbbing slowed a little and he could think a little clearer.

   The two things that were in front of him were just staring at him. He wanted to hiss or growl at them to warn them farther off but held back. He didn’t recognize them by sight or sound but the smell was so familiar. He felt impatient with himself at not yet knowing the origin.

   The dragon waited for them to make the first move so he'd have a better understanding how they moved. How could anything move on just two legs? The tall green one started making that noise again from its mouth. Its eyes went to its companion who shook their head a little. Maybe these things had some intelligence. That noise was their way of communicating? Damn they looked so small, fragile. Probably take them down with one bite. Would have been perfect. Quick easy meal like that. But the dragon felt how full and heavy his stomach was. _Overstuffed_. No sense killing these strange things for a snack. Might even be poisonous. Poisonous things usually didn't worry about being eaten. Might explain why they're so brave up against him. They didn't even _try_ and run away when he snarled. Better not risk biting them.

   The other tan one was now holding his front legs out too. Circling around a little. They were moving to either sides of him, slowly, as if he didn't know what they were doing. As if he wasn't a predator. A low growl was all it took for them to stop their stupid attempt at cornering him. His eyes flashed from one to the other. Warning. They may be poisonous, but he doesn't have to bite them to kill them. They weren't any threat to him as they were. They made no further attempt to attack and smelled scared out of their little minds. The dragon got to his feet and decided to leave them to whatever they were doing before this.

   A quick look around told him that this really wasn't his home. It was just some random patch of woods. More of that noise came from the tall green one and the shorter tan one started making the noise back but it sounded deeper. Both kept trying to do the noise at the dragon, as if they expected him to understand or communicate back. Well that was just stupid. He growled again, showed a bit more teeth and snorted. He wasn't pissed at them, but they were starting to get annoying. He started walking off, keeping them to his right so he could keep an eye on them if he tilted his head a little as he left.

   The dragon smelled newer scents from the two things. Very strong and slightly different from before. They were panicking? What for? He was _leaving them alone_. He turned his head when he heard them both start to walk after him. Making louder noises, waving their front legs at him. He stopped just long enough to get a better look at them. They kept on with that noise and he decided to humor them and said, 'I don't know what you're saying, but you're getting on my nerves. If you don't stop following me, I will kill you.'

   They didn’t seem to understand or didn't care because they kept on walking after him. He snorted angrily and started walking away again. He could hear their little feet move faster, trying to catch up. They stopped trying to communicate with him and instead were doing it with each other. The dragon upped his pace a little and that made both of them break into a run. He kept it up until he heard heavy breaths from both of them and then pushed them a little farther. He was heading towards the rougher part of the woods. Larger boulders and cliffs would make them change their minds. Or at least give him a respite from this ridiculous chase. They'd have to climb over them to reach him. As he jogged he debated whether or not to just run full out, or even fly.

   He stretched his wings when he reached a clearing and gave a few flaps. Only now noticing that he had something dull mixed with something shiny on his body. It glinted in the sunlight and he was transfixed with how bright and odd it was. What the hell was attached to his skin? His massive wings flapped again and caught the sunlight and sent thousands of dots of light all around the meadow. The two chasing him started making louder noises, they sounded freaked. For some reason, the sounds combined with how urgent they were being uttered, made him think that they were warning him. Not against them, but from something else. Like they were on his side and trying to _protect_ him. The wind was pushing their scents towards him faster then they were able to advance and confirmed that they were feeling the need to keep him safe.

   That got the dragon to turn around and face them again. They were still running over, lagging far behind and panting heavily. They both looked like they were ready to collapse any second. Maybe he wouldn’t have to resort to mountain climbing or flying to get rid of them. Just a little bit longer and they'd collapse on their own. They were determined as hell, that's for sure. He flapped his wings again just to see what they'd do and they looked freaked. Not from his display, but from what it was doing. They looked to the sky and all around, more worried about the scenery then their opponent. He took one long look at them, hunched over and trying to catch their breaths and be on guard, ready for a fight at the same time. But not with him. They seemed to trust him not to kill them, even though he quite clearly said he would. No, they seemed to be looking out for a different danger. What the hell?

   The dragon folded his wings back up and they seemed to be relieved by that, making those stupid noises at him again. 'I still don't understand you.' he said, with less malice this time around. He sighed at them and instead of going further into the woods away from them he decided to give them a break and get closer. Obviously they would just follow him until they died and even though they were a little weird and annoying, he didn’t see the need in getting them killed.

   'Fine. You want to hang out with me so bad...' he grumbled and walked over. Now they started to back up from him. 'Make up your damned minds!' he all but roared. They backed up a little more, wide eyes and breaths getting faster again. He sighed again and sat down. Still. Waiting. These things were like babies. Probably lost their mother. Got attached to the first thing they saw. Well crap. The dragon evened out his own breathing, calming down. He felt a little guilty for making the little things chase after him. Probably just need something to watch over them. All alone out here, even a bear could pick them off. They looked harmless, defenseless. Even if they were poisonous, they didn't seem fit to survive out here on their own. No claws or fangs to speak of. And they even got winded from a quick sun shifting jog. Yeah. They needed something to look after them. The dragon didn't see anything resembling a mother out here, nor herd of these things. Separated from the herd they'd have no chance to survive. Even if they did have each other. He'd just have to watch over them until he found more of them. He eased down all the way, making himself seem less imposing. He folded in his wings and slowly lowered his head down to their level. 'I'm not gonna hurt'cha. Just uh... don't bite me.' he softly growled, ending with a crooning chirp, 'It's ok little guys.' he grinned at them a little, 'Gonna call you Greenie and you Tanner.' He murmured to the things. Gotta start somewhere with his new adopted babies. Didn't seem right referring to them as 'things'. Just because he doesn't know what the hell they are, doesn't mean that they don't deserve a name. He was pretty sure he had one as well but for the life of him, he couldn't remember it. Maybe he didn't have one. All the while he watched Greenie and Tanner move around nervously. 'Don't worry babies, you're safe with me,' he chirped, then added, 'my name is Daddy.'

   Greenie was about to go first but then the shorter one, Tanner beat him to it. That one walked up closer, still smelling a bit panicked but he couldn't tell what Tanner was more worried about. His new parent leaving, or what was hidden in the woods. Maybe they could sense something dangerous that he can't. He would wait until he gained their trust before hunting down the dangers out there. Maybe because they were so small and helpless, they were afraid of everything. Makes sense. Greenie was now walking closer as well. Murmuring those noises now. Like he was the one doing the consoling. The dragon couldn't suppress a small snort at that as a laugh. They tensed before coming closer. Each one had a front leg out and reaching for his face. He mentally shrugged at that. Maybe it was something they did for their parents. He'd reach out and touch their faces too if it wouldn't end up with crushed skulls and a painful death from his claws. Better just stick to nuzzling.

   A warm feeling spread in his body when they got close enough to his head that he could feel their heat. He got his head comfortable on the tall grasses and each exhale out his nose moved the plants around. The two made a sound like his chirp but different. A quickly repeating exhale that he suddenly realized was probably them laughing. He didn’t smell anything mocking about it, but a sense of joy. Well, at least they are happy. He's loosing some of his masculinity being here, prostrated like this in front of two weak thing babies. He thinks they're male. But, who knows. Each one moved slowly to their side of his head and touched his nose gently. He stiffened for a second, worried that is how they spread their poison but nothing happened. No sting, no bite, no pain or even numbness. They lifted their front legs up and never stopped looking at his eyes. He shifted his gaze from one to the other and then just gave up and let his lids close. The forelegs rubbed all along his nose and he had to admit it felt kinda nice. Greenie started scratching behind his left side fan ear and holy cow, Greenie is now his favorite kid. Tanner sounded a bit jealous and so he just wiggled his other side fan ear to give Tanner the hint. He lifted up his eye and saw Tanner move to his ear and start rubbing it and at Greenie's encouragement, started scratching. Ohhh, _yeah_.... that's the stuff. A deep appreciative purr vibrated the ground and his kids seemed to relax under it. That's good. It felt nice having them trust him. He was still a little wary of what they might be capable of, but for now they seemed like they just wanted him around. He felt warmth from both of them as they leaned against his head and that felt good too. Not just the warmth on the surface but he felt warm on the inside. Peaceful. Happy.

   After a short while, the two sat down next to his head and started up that noise again, quieter then before, as if he wasn't still awake and keeping an ear out for anything that might harm them. Then, in the distance they all heard something blare. It was very far away but the harsh sound echoed all over the place. One long sound then two quick ones after that. Then nothing. The effect was immediate as both his little kids shot up to their feet and started walking in that direction. But that's not right, these two never made any sound even _remotely_ like that blare. That couldn’t possibly be the mother. The two kids looked back to him and he said, 'Don't, we don't know what that is, it could hurt you.' And as he got to his feet again he chirped with some authority, 'Come on, I’ll help you out. I'll keep you safe until we find your real family.'

   Both of the kids started making urging noises and waving their forelegs at him then towards the area that the sound came from. Nodding at him like it was ok.

   'No, we are not going over there. Whatever that is sounds huge. We don't go into a hunt without knowing what it is first.' He told them and bumped each one with the end of his nose. 'Hide in here and I’ll go check it out.' He then gently shoved them closer to a few shrubs that should provide good cover. The two of them just made noises at each other then him and back at each other. No matter how many times he shoved them towards cover, they would just jump out again. He got a little fed up and startled when the blaring sound was heard again. 'Just get in there!' he growled at them a little more forcefully then he intended. They stood stiffly upright at that and that fear scent was back with a vengeance. 'Sorry, but, ungh...' he grumbled. 'Just sit tight. Please?' he said then picked up Greenie first and dropped him 20 feet high in the nearest tree. He made sure the taller kid had a good grip on the branches before doing the same to Tanner. That one yelped a little loudly and he steadied him a little better before pushing him into the tree next to Greenie. The tall one helped out his littermate and both were now safe in the tree, making noises. The dragon hissed at them until they stopped and were finally quiet and he nodded firmly. He gave a reassuring grin to them, hoping they understood to stay put and that he'd be back. He then took off for the sound, making sure to go around it in a wide circle so it wasn't aware of what was coming.

 

   “Where are they?” Bobby grumbled, he'd just honked the Impala's horn again but still no response back. Even if they were miles away, they should have heard it and then either showed up or Sam would have given off a single shot back to signal their location and that they were coming.

   “Honk the horn again.” Balthazar said, making sure that their new ingredients were in the right order to go into that clay pot thing.

   “Can't keep blasting the horn out here. If anyone lives out this way they'd likely think we were in trouble and come by to help us.” Bobby informed him a little curtly. The drive to the store and back had been trying for the older hunter. Being bombarded with questions about the supernatural and everything weird in the world was getting annoying. Especially since that English hippy kept on yammering about the dragon herb. Where he found it, where to get more, what it looks like when it's not mulch. Bobby knew why he was asking, but refused to give up any information. No sense loosing the sensibilities of one of their small group to the best damned drug in town. Bobby had connections, and no way in hell was he going to loose them for a kilo of dragon herb. Bad enough that the 'men in black' stole his entire store of it when they raided his house. He knew he would have to get more of it, quick, fast, and in a hurry, for the battles ahead, but it wasn't easy to come by on the best of days. And now, it looks as though those days are numbered too. Bobby would have to bribe the hell out of his contacts to send as much as they could get their hands on. Picececolus Drationaglie is _not cheap_. It would cost less to drop a mansion on the dragon to immobilize it.

   Balthazar arranged everything according to the English translations onto the wide hood of the car. He then tucked away all of the ample remainder of ingredients for later. The spell only lasts so long and would have to be re-made once it ran its course. He then joined Bobby at the rear of the car and leaned up against it next to him.

   Bobby's phone began to ring and just two seconds later, Balthazar's started going off too. But before either of them could answer they both cut out for a moment then started up again a moment later. Bobby hit the answer button quickly and heard Sam's voice on the other end shout, “Dean's a dragon! He's -” before it cut out again.

   “Balls.” Bobby muttered and held his phone up higher to get a better signal. Balthazar's phone wasn’t having much luck either. “Something's interfering with the signals.”

   Balthazar made a noise of agreement and walked a little ways away from the car, thinking that the metal was messing with the signal, he found a small hill and scaled it, holding up his phone. The bells went off signaling a text. He grinned and held it up to Bobby who was now trying to call Sam back. He read it out loud, “Cassie says that Dean is a dragon, we should be careful around him and that we make no threatening gestures.” Balthazar shrugged at that. That was just common knowledge. He then felt a tingle of dread run down his spine when he felt more then saw movement in the woods. Something was hunting them. “Bobby?”

   “Hmm?” Bobby was distracted, fussing with his phone.

   “I think we better find shelter.” Balthazar said very calmly and slowly, backing up off of the hill and heading to the Impala. When it looked as though Bobby wasn't paying close enough attention, Balthazar bit his lip and changed his course to the Impala to pass by his new friend. He hissed, “ _Bobby_!” and then bumped into him while looking intently where that shrub just moved.

   Bobby looked up harshly at Balthazar for bumping his hand away from the 'send' button to where he was looking. They both jolted when they heard a growl come from 30 feet to their left. Oh. That was the distraction. Get the prey to look one way and attack from the other. Only predator big enough to move shrubs that far at the same time is something huge. _SHIT!_

   Balthazar dove into the driver's side and Bobby scrambled with the rear door behind it. A massive thing came slinking out of the woods. It looked like their Dean, but it's posture and hate filled glare was all _dragon_. Dean wasn't home right now.

   Balthazar started honking the horn like mad, trying to scare him off but that just enraged the monster. He came bounding out the rest of the way and open mouth growling and roaring at the car. The looks he was giving the inside almost seemed fearful and the glares and hatred was for the car. The dragon paced around the car like it was trying to figure out how to open up a box with no lid. All Balthazar and Bobby could see were legs, the whipping agitated tail and the dragon's open maw, hissing profanities and threats not far enough outside. The car jolted onto its side, sending the occupants into the seats. Bobby cried out with pain as his back was screaming at him. The car stilled for just a second while the dragon went back to Bobby's side and it started to gnaw on the door frame. Metal screeched and Bobby scooted across the bench seat to the other side, the dragon looked in and redoubled his efforts to break into the car from that side now. Able to move his head from one to the other in seconds, Bobby sat in the middle wishing that he had his cane on him, and Balthazar was now wedging himself into the foot well on the front passenger side.

   All they could hear and feel was the car being shifted around on the ground like it was nothing more then a large toy. The growls and hisses became more frantic when the dragon looked in and no longer saw one of the people inside. Balthazar was covering up with the shopping bags and Bobby was trying to call Sam back to warn him and Cas about what's going on. When Balthazar was scrambling to get undercover, he had accidentally turned on the tape deck and of all the songs that were queued up, 'Simple Man' by Lynyrd Skynrd started playing. The shuffling outside and growling slowly petered out.

   Then, something happened outside after a long scratch along the driver's side. The shadows moved away a little and they could hear the dragon make some sounds outside that almost resembled sadness. Whimpering. The song kept playing on and then switched to the next one on the mix tape. Another one of Dean's old favorites. Balthazar internally groaned at the thought of dying to the sounds of mullet rock. Bobby caught Balthazar's eye and they looked out of the wind shield where the dragon was backing up from the car and its occupants.

   Then they noticed movements in the woods and saw Sam and Castiel emerge, barely keeping themselves upright, they must have run at least a mile from wherever it was they'd buggered off to. They both looked like crap warmed over but still had enough energy to be waving their hands and shouting at the dragon. Bobby was halfway out of the car to haul their crazy asses inside when the dragon went over to Sam and Castiel and actually started to nuzzle them, looking back at the car and then blocking them from the view of the car.

   The dragon then came back to the driver's side and stunned Bobby by licking the door that he'd been gnawing on. A huge hand was now on the roof, rubbing the dent marks as if that was going to make them go away.

   “Dean?” Bobby said, rolling down the window an inch.

   The dragon stuck a nostril into the window and inhaled deeply. The air it produced and churned sent Bobby's cap right off his head and into the other door. More inhales and exhales as it sniffed whatever it could reach inside. Bobby was worried that it was going to fill the car with the toxic fumes to 'smoke' them out but it just retreated. They heard deep rumblings that weren't the same as angry growls and Sam was there all of the sudden, going for the door handle. He looked inside at Bobby, then Balthazar who was disentangling himself from the shopping bags and floor well, and they could see Cas leading the dragon's head away with a gentle hand on its chin. It went peacefully, and when he was a fair distance away Sam let them out of the car.

   Sam kept up a litany of, “It's ok, Dean. See? They're not hurt, they're fine. It's gonna be ok.” then addressed Bobby and Balthazar, “You guys ok?” he got a tentative nod from each, still too stunned to speak so he said, “Come out slowly and show him that the car didn't eat you. That you're ok.”

   They nodded dumbly again and exited the car out the passenger side. The door frame behind the driver's seat was too bent to be opened. Balthazar held up his hands like he was being arrested and Bobby just stood there, staring up at the massive dragon that seemed to sigh in relief that they were ok.

   “Sam, mind telling me what's going on?”

   “Well... Dean isn't himself right now. I mean, that's his body, and he's in there somewhere. I hope. But right now, I think that is a dragon.”

   Bobby nodded and said, “So... what do we do now?”

   Sam faced the dragon and the expression on his face showed that he had no clue. Cas was talking to the dragon like a child and the dragon, also, was treating Cas as if _he_ was the child.

   Balthazar lowered his hands and then raised one again, “I have a suggestion.” all eyes went to him, he took a step back when that included the huge monster's as well. He continued hesitantly, “We have the ingredients. We can just make him small.” he meekly shrugged and added, “A small monster is better then a huge monster.”

   After a minute of consideration, Castiel finally addressed the others, “I think, it's more complicated then that.” At their combined confused stares he continued, “I think Dean's mind is in turmoil. I think he's now switching to another side of himself.” The words came out without any kind of authority on the matter, more like a thought that was crossing his mind and he said out loud. After a moment they could all see the dragon's eyes squeeze tight and then open again, breath coming in short puffs as he looked around himself for the first time. Castiel grinned widely and somehow knew what side this was, “He's human.” Cas announced happily. “Hello, Dean.”

   The dragon looked over to Sam and Bobby and the Impala again as if seeing them for the first time. His squeal of delight wasn't missed by anyone as the huge body bound over to them and laid down in front of them, reaching out and easily gathering up his little brother and surrogate dad into a body crushing hug. All the while he was saying something and looking at them with such utter joy and relief. Sam and Bobby hugged back, arms and hands as far stretched as they could go and still not being far enough. Neither of them cared, they were just too happy, finally feeling like they have their old Dean again.

   Dean then sent a few tear filled chirps over to Castiel and Balthazar. No doubt a thanks for bringing his family back together.

   “You're welcome, Dean.” Castiel said and Dean cocked his head to the side, remembering that they can't understand his speech. Castiel watched as he reluctantly let go of his family and gave another wide grin to him before picking up a long stick and walking over to some sand and dirt. He smoothed it out, created more of the bare area, and sat down in front of it.

   Dean then smirked and using his huge right paw, wrote out, 'thanks cas' and then once that was read he smoothed it out again and wrote, 'mind meld with me.' and chirped at Sam.

   Sam was standing nearby and asked, “Dean. We spent all this time finding you and the first thing you say to me is a Star Trek reference?”

   Dean bobbled his head and then cleared the ground, writing, 'faster to talk.' and erased it and wrote, 'dog hunt' after that, looking to Sam pointedly. His grin got wider as the gears were turning in Sam's head.

   “Of course! Damn, why didn't I think of that months ago?!” Sam wanted to kick his own ass.

   Dean huffed a laugh and wrote, 'cuz u dum' and nose bumped his little brother, nearly knocking him over. Sam got his feet back under him and punched Dean's left nostril as hard as he could. Dean yelped even though it didn’t hurt, just tickled, and went to 'hide' behind Cas. He then lifted up a hand and middle fingered Sam.

   "I'm sorry? Dog hunt?" Balthazar raised one hand again as if in class.

   Sam filled the civilians and Bobby in, only now remembering that they never told him because Dean was embarrassed from that particular hunt. Dean gave a hand gesture to Sam as permission to tell them about it. A firm look then said to leave out the _other_ details. He inwardly chuckled though, if this works out, Sammy might start acting like a dragon too. He decided to keep that to himself for now. Even he was still getting used to this huge body and all its extra... _everything_. Limbs, weight, length, height, sharp bits, senses, you name it. Oh how he wished he could use a camera for when Sammy tries to set fire to stuff by spitting on it!

   Sam ignored whatever the hell Dean was laughing at behind him as he spoke to the others, "Last year we were on this hunt where the only witness to two of the strange crimes was a German Shepherd who had been owned by the first victim. A friend of ours from a different hunt had found a kind of potion spell that old native Inuit's from Canada had used to communicate with the earth spirits and animals. Intending on communing with their spirit animals. The spell was altered about 2 hundred years ago so that our Native Americans could talk to their own animals. We recreated the second version and Dean downed the potion and could understand and communicate with the German Shepherd witness. It wore off after a week but we got the bad guy and found a new home for the dog when it was all settled."

   Dean nodded and wrote, 'dog was cool' then erased it and wrote, 'meld will work', and wondered why they were still talking about it instead of doing it.

   “But if you could sign and write, why would I need to mind meld with you? Who knows what kind of perversions are running through your head. I've seen your one night stands. Who says we need to know what's behind the curtain?” Sam pointed out and Dean just grumbled at him. Sam already knew the answer and decided to tease him anyway. He then noticed how uncomfortable Castiel was getting and regretted saying anything. He cleared his throat and said, “I think the spell is in the journal in the trunk. I'll get it ready, we should have everything already. It's more chanting then ingredient based.”

   Dean nodded his thanks and sat down next to Cas. Castiel found himself running his hand up and down Dean's forearm next to him and Dean decided not to point it out. He was vaguely aware of what was going on before. That dragon side was a tough bastard to push aside. It was like he was behind a thick wall in his mind, and for some reason, hearing the music still playing inside his baby and his brother and Bobby and everything, it all pushed its way through the wall like the kool-aid man, and he wasted no time jumping through that opening. Seeing Sam again, alive and well and safe, and Bobby and Cas and even that weirdo Balth, it was just so awesome. No more cages. That must have been one hell of a rescue. Then he looked over and was about to look fondly at his baby but saw the dents and bite marks and scratches all along her body. It didn't fully register before, but now, he was gonna kick that dragon's ass if he ever saw him in the head space again. He gawped like a fish as he saw the state she was in. He walked over to her, ignoring Sammy who was waist deep in the trunk as he got a closer inspect the damages.

   Sam pulled out the stuff he needed and pat Dean's side as he walked around to the front of the car, whimpering at the scratches there. “Sorry, the uh, the dragon did that. We tried to tell you to stop, that they were fine, but uh, you, I mean, he? He probably thought that the car was hurting Bobby and Balthazar.”

   Dean grumbled and signed, 'dragon is a dick.' before huffing angrily.

   “He wasn't all that bad, he was just trying to protect them. He put Castiel and I up in a tree to keep us safe while he came over here to do that.” Dean looked down at Sammy again and got closer to his little brother, looking him over for injury. Sam patted himself down and held out his hands. “No harm done, I swear.” Dean didn't look convinced.

   He was about to sign something else but then just pointed at Sam's head and then his own.

   “I'm hurrying, hurrying. Keep your scales on.”

   Dean huffed at that and a stray thought crossed his mind, he tried to be discrete while he looked under his body and blew out a relieved sigh when he knew for sure that his man-hood wasn't visible. That would probably traumatize his little brother. He then caught himself looking over to Cas. Dude was even sexier when he was unshaven and unshowered. How is that possible? Dean could smell him from over here and the guys natural musk was sending something pleasant up and down Dean's spine. Some dream he had when he was tucked away behind the wall. He felt an odd tingle at the back of his mind. A click of clarity, that was what caused the shift in personalities. Now, it was almost like watching a movie on an old TV with only bits and pieces coming through the static. But... not. That was just an analogy that his current mind came up with. He could see and feel and sense just bits of what was going on in the real world, he thought it was just his imagination. Then something happened when he was with Cas in the woods. He realized something about the guy and then his mind blanked out and went primal. Literally. The body's personality took over and ran amok. It was like all hints of Dean were shoved back and it was pulled forward. He hoped that Sammy was telling the truth about the dragon side, that it didn't hurt anyone. It did a number on the Impala and if it were possible to kick one's own ass, Dean was determined to be the first one in history to do it. Just look at her door!

   Sam laid out the ingredients onto a fallen log, kept separate from the half rotten wood by his over shirt as a makeshift tablecloth. Balthazar was right there, watching with rapt attention and Bobby was lookout man. Someone had to make sure that the army didn't sneak up on them. Especially since Dean was far more hellbent on pining over bent metal than guard duty. Bobby still depended on his older surrogate son's senses over his own, being able to hear and see farther helped. He was pretty sure that the men and women after them would be smart enough to stay downwind of the group but if they found their location, then it was a moot point anyway. They had the firepower and manpower to over take them in a heartbeat. There wouldn't even be a fight, it would be a one sided slaughter. Bobby knew that. Yet he still would rather stay and die with his family then as a lonely old man behind a phone. His cane was by his side, no sense hiding it from the others, better to just nip their concern in the butt and use it. At least it was a custom made one by a hunter friend. A thin but long solid silver sword was concealed in the shaft of it. If that mother dragon showed up pissed, Bobby wanted some kind of last resort defense. Sam knew about the sword cane, and even practiced with it when he and Bobby were bored out of their minds on the side of the road. Sparring with Sam's long silver knifes. They had to keep sharp, neither of them had a proper hunt in over half a year and they couldn't afford to be flabby at the finish line.

   Sam had just found the 'mind melding' spell when Castiel came up to him and stilled his hand. “As much as I wish to converse with Dean unhindered by hand signals and text, do you think it's wise to perform so many spells on him at once?”

   Sam frowned at him and looked to Bobby. Bobby considered it and said, “I hate to admit it but he's right. We should do the more important spell first and then see if he's up to mind melding with anyone.”

   Dean's ears perked up and he dipped his head over Sam's shoulder to the two books on the trunk of the car. He squinted and just barely made out what the other spell was. He lifted a hand and signed, 'I dont have hair.' before dropping it and double checking the hair color changing spell again. How the hell was that a more important spell then communicating with his family?

   Sam had a mischievous grin and waved a hand to Balthazar. “Well? It's your idea, you pitch it to him.”

   Balthazar balked at him for a moment. Looking up at the dragons confused face that was turning impatient the longer he stayed quiet.

   “Oh for crying out loud,” Bobby huffed and straightened his ball cap back onto his head from the backseat of the car. “We are gonna make you travel size. And don't go pissing and moaning about it. If you weren’t so scared of flying you probably could have made it to Rufus' cabin in record time. And even then that's not really advisable.” Bobby said and pointed out the spell on the other page. Dean's witch to English translation abilities were never that good so Bobby filled him in, “This is a spell intended to shrink down someone. For you, since your ass has its own zip code,” Dean grumbled, “We are gonna have to use a double dose. Not all at once, but we gotta get you down as far as we can. I already changed a line in it to make you as small to us as we are to you right now.”

   Dean took a moment to let it sink in. Either he flies to the cabin, or they shrink him down. He frowned at the two options, wracking his brain for a third. He took a few paces away, mentally sizing up his own body and coming to the conclusion that he's just too big for a semi anymore. Those days are long gone. He tentatively opened up his wings and looked at them again. Still amazed that he even _has_ them. They obeyed the command to flap a few times and nothing happened. The wind kicked up for the others but no lift. He flapped harder and his front half lifted but it wasn't easy. He tried harder and felt the burn in his muscles but was finally able to get off the ground. He hovered awkwardly until landing again with a loud thump. He figured he _could_ fly, but the effort would kill him before he'd gotten a few miles away. He's gonna have to exercise those muscles just in case, but that will take a hot minute. They need a solution now.

   He sighed heavily and looked down at his friends and family again. They didn’t even reach his elbow so he'd be about the size of a small rat with wings. A bat. Or, that little dragon dude from Mulan. But with wings. And more r-rated one liners. Ok, that's not so bad, Mushu was a little bad ass. Dean tried to convince himself that this was a good thing and before he could talk himself out of it he said, 'Do it.' then grumbled and lifted up his hand to sign it. He then saw how little his brother was to just his hand and imagined how small he's gonna be to fit in one. What did he just agree to?

   He cleared his throat for attention again, he signed, 'one rule.'

   The others nodded, Cas spoke up, “Anything Dean.”

   Dean signed, 'listen to me when im small.' and rested his hand for a second when he wobbled. 'im the boss.'

   That got a chuckle from Balthazar as he said, “That's not one simple rule, that's a dictatorship.”

   Dean shook his head and snarled a little at the English dude. 'or no deal.' he signed and stalked off into the woods. Cas and Sam followed after him.

   He wished that he could just talk to them instead of summing up a speech's worth of reason in one sentence. He looked down at them and they didn't say anything at first. He was still getting used to the idea that he could smell their feelings as easy as if they just said them out loud. It was almost like they knew that too because what he was picking up on is acceptance. To his terms, he guessed.

   “It's gonna be alright, Dean. We wont make you do anything you don't want to do.” Cas said, looking all happy and eager, “I already told you this, but, I promise I'll look after you.” He amended when it looked like Dean was taking offense to it. “I got your back.” Castiel finished and Dean knew that Sam agreed.

   Dean nodded. Glad that he has at least two of them on board with Team Dean. He knows that Bobby wouldn’t take advantage of him but that Balth guy just rubbed him the wrong way. He turned back towards the car and the clay bowl and sighed. He followed after the two of them and forced himself to sit still, waiting outside of the huge circle that Bobby was drawing in the dirt. Balthazar was putting out an odd scent when Cas was hanging close to Dean's arm. Dean tried to be subtle as he took a sniff and recognized it as jealousy. Of what? Then it dissipated when Cas started talking about promises and reassurances. Dean only half heard what Cas was saying. Balthazar's new scent was more pleased. Of Dean being downsized? Ok, what's going on. First he's jealous, now hes happy when Cas is talking about what he'll be capable of once small, and Cas is putting out all kinds of scents that he doesn’t even know where to start so he just focus's on Balth.

   Dean chirped over at Balthazar and signed the biggest question on his mind concerning the English dude. 'do you give a crap about me?'

   “What kind of question is that?” Balthazar asked, sounding truly puzzled.

   Dean hated having to sign everything, 'why are you here?'

   Balthazar shoved off of the Impala and strode angrily up to Dean. Cas was now lifting up his hands as if he wasn’t sure he should keep Balthazar back or not. Of course Dean could defend himself against Balthazar, but he still felt the need to protect him. Dean took a hot second to appreciate that from the little sexy dude.

   “Balth? What are you doing?” Cas asked nervously, tensing at the angry look in his eyes.

   Balthazar just gave a cursory glance to his friend and said, “Your boyfriend is questioning my allegiance. As if I HAVEN'T PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE TO SAVE HIM!” he shouted up to Dean's face.

   Dean was shocked for a moment as Balth continued on, starting to pace a little in front of his huge clawed hands on the ground as if they couldn't crush him into a pulp if Dean was the spiteful type that did not care to be yelled at.

   Balthazar's voice raised with his anger, “Let's get one thing straight, Freckles. Not even two days ago you single handedly destroyed Cassie’s reputation and employment as well as everyone else's that worked under him. I could have just stayed on the sidelines when you set the fire that destroyed that whole building! I could have let that jerk Gadreel shoot you with that herb rifle he had trained on your head after all hell broke loose. I could have saved myself a broken toe by not kicking him square in the balls to incapacitate him from hurting you.”

   He gestured sharply down to his right shoe, and for the first time the others noticed the laces that were loose to accommodate the large bandage inside. He must handle pain well, or have some killer pain killers. Maybe both.

   Balth kept on going, “I could have joined in the mob that was trying to take you down. I could have simply let them take you. It would have been easy, we wouldn't be on the run from several evil megalomaniacle organizations that want to kill us all. I could have left you to the business buzzards but I _didn’t_! I _wouldn’t_ do that! I stand up to bullies all the time defending my friends and believe it or not, I consider you one of them. I stayed because I want to help you and Cassie. I was the one that found that spell to shrink you because I knew that it was the best way to get you to safety. You’re too big and clumsy and stupid to avoid detection when you’re half and half or full on dragon. You threatened my life more then once and I forgave you for that because I know what it's like to be caged up. You loose your mind after awhile. Everyone's the enemy. Everyone's after you for just being what you are. Everyone wants you caged up because you’re different. An abomination. I was imprisoned too. I was arrested for basically being gay in the south. They pulled up a stupid misdemeanor and falsely charged me of it and imprisoned me without parole for 2 years in my twenties.” Balthazar fumed.

   Castiel was stunned. He wondered where the hell Balthazar was for those two years. Balth wrote to him and said he went back home for family matters. Castiel's heart dropped out. No wonder Balth came back different. More guarded and careful about showing affection. It took decades before he had his old friend back.

   “When we found out that you were more then a dumb monster, what you were, how good and decent you were, just misunderstood and typecast, we tried to figure out a way to get you out. Hell, we were the first ones to show you respect when you first showed up at the warehouse. Granted, Cassie was the one that opened up my eyes but at least I never _shut_ _them_ again. Like Michael.”

   Dean's puzzled look was an obvious indicator he had no idea who that was.

   “Michael was the one that bought you from the military.” More confusion. “Do you remember anything?”

   Dean's brow furrowed and he reluctantly shook his head. He only got bits and pieces, not enough to paint a picture.

   “Since we are nearly done with the spell's preparation, I'll give you the cliff's notes.” Balth took a deep breath and started, slightly calmer, “You were on a hunt with Sam when you got turned into a dragon. The mother caught you, swallowed you, and birthed you. Sam and Bobby found you a few weeks later and took you home where they kept you safe and hidden as you grew up. An asshole by the name of Joseph Azazel found out where they took you and eventually kidnapped you from them. They shot Bobby and left Sam defenseless on the side of the road as they carted your ass to a monster zoo. A zoo for monsters, not like a 'monster sized zoo.'” Balthazar waved his hands at his own diversion from the tale. “While at the zoo, Azazel and a bastard named Alistair tortured you into forgetting your past. We think they hypnotized you or used some kind of mind control thing. In any case they put a chip under one of your back spines that can track your location. But, good news for you, the thing that can track you is owned and held solely by a friend you made at the zoo. Castiel's ex-bitch-wife Meg Masters.”

   Dean felt Cas cringe next to him. She must be a real piece of work.

   “She wanted you to be free of the bastards and arranged for the military to free you. What she didn't know is that they were just wanting you for scientific tests and eventually using you for military applications. Namely, your fire spray and biology studied and reproduced in a lab to make better weapons or shields or whatever the hell they were after. Before they could do too much, you set fire to the military base and they sold you to Michael, who also wanted you for scientific study but at least he was going to spare you from becoming a weapon yourself. Probably. Who knows. He had put Castiel in charge of the warehouse before you arrived and you and him soon became friends.”

   Castiel felt a blush coming at what Balth might say next but he just stuck to the main events.

   “We both got to know the real you and I tried to bring out the human side with hypnosis since you seemed to remember bits of 'old life' and we wanted to know what you thought about everything. If you were even still YOU underneath it all. I did the hypnosis but it kinda went sideways.”

   Dean looked down to Cas and he filled in the rest of the story, “You came out for a short while. We talked for a bit, well, you tried talking, but as you know, we can't understand your dragon-speech. You were upset to find out you were a monster. Any of this familiar?”

   Dean's brow furrowed, this was like listening to someone describe an entire series in the span of a commercial break. He does remember his time with them, and then it went back to fuzz. Up until that hot dream he had recently. Dean's eyes narrowed, at least he thought it was a dream. Something was telling him not to think too hard about it. He nodded for their sake, to let them know he does remember the failed hypnosis. The mirror and then nothing.

   Castiel gave them his theory, “I think that stressful situations bring out another part of you. At first I thought it was the mirror but that might not be the case for every shift in personality. You were fine looking at your car's reflective paint job, and at the creek with reflections in the water. I don't know for sure what triggers it, so I'm hoping that we can keep either you or dragondean with us because the pure dragon might not like being held captive.”

   Sam had joined in at some point, Dean heard him chime in, “Not that we are keeping you captive! But _he_ might not see it that way.” and shrugged.

   Dean thought about it and signed, 'is dragondean ok with this plan?' and rested his hand again.

   “He was the one that suggested rat sized.” Balth smirked.

   Dean growled inwardly, 'im gonna kill him.'

   Sam chuckled because he knew what Dean said. “Don't worry, it wears off.”

   “Then we have to reapply it.” Castiel informed. “I am hoping it doesn’t cause you pain. The book mentioned discomfort.” his hand trailing up and down Dean's forearm next to him.

   Dean sighed. He's had worse. 'whatever'. And then signed, 'lets do it.'

   Bobby finished up just a moment later and pointed to Dean and said, “You get to sit pretty in the middle while the rest of you get behind the car. If this thing goes south, I don't want y'all crushed by Deanzilla.”

   Dean swallowed hard. What if it was reversed and Dean does grow instead of shrink? Shit. He motioned for them to stand back and was about to push the Impala back even further when Bobby held up his hands.

   “Stay in the circle. No matter what. Ok?” Bobby said sternly. Dean could scent the worry coming from him. Putting on a brave face for Dean's sake. He was just as worried as the rest of them. Dean took a deep stabilizing breath and let it go. Feeling a little lightheaded but better. He can do this. All he's gotta do is not move. Easy peasy.

   Bobby held out the clay bowl of ingredients and started up the spell. At one point he nodded to himself and lit up Dean's old lighter and dropped that into the bowl. Dean hoped it wouldn’t be destroyed but his thoughts were hard to follow let alone finish soon after that. He felt a tingling sensation grow in intensity until every part of him felt like it was on fire. He knew he should be in pain right now but actually loved that feeling. His body was warmed from the inside out and his head went a little dizzy in euphoria. The ground felt like it was sliding in every single direction away from him. His legs started to splay out to the four corners and his wings fell to the sides as they too were pulled into his core from the sides. The world expanding in every conceivable direction, like a camera zooming out. His blurry eyes saw the traces of huge claw mark trails from where he had stood to where he lay now, sliding back, sliding forward from behind, sliding to the left and right and especially slipping downwards as if he was falling. The feeling of scales coming off of his skin made his flesh crawl. Was he shrinking out of his own hide? He felt minor pops all over his body, it didn’t hurt, more like cold melted candle wax being pulled off of his thumb when he and Sammy were kids playing with the summoning candles. Tinkling was heard on the compacted dirt and rocks. Glints of shiny things littered the ground and fell like rain. Why the hell they felt the need to throw giant confetti was anyone's guess. This was not some Chinese dragon parade. Though, that was a good idea, go to China and crash one of their parades with a real dragon. Soon that thought joined all the others in that swirling pool of rational thought, mixing them up so all the threads were becoming harder to follow.

   He was dimly aware of the world growing larger and larger in front of and all around him. Bobby's words became louder in sound and intensity as he was getting near the end of the spell. Dean could feel it in his bones as if they were etched into his ribs. As if he was born listening to them and heard them every waking moment. They simply existed within him. The runes and words carved in places where he couldn’t possibly reach. Every exhale he gave he lost another foot of height. Like a deflating balloon, he could barely catch a single breath before it burned in his ever shrinking lungs. Feeling as if they'd pop if he took too deep of a breath, he started panting rapidly like Lamaze breathing pregnant chicks. The burning faded along with his consciousness. He felt the ground on his side, still spreading out from him and saw that Bobby was growing larger and larger by the second. His head lolled and jaw was slack. Finally, silence. The wind whipped up over him and he lay there, spent and worn. Panting like a dog. The pool of thoughts slowed its frantic whirl and he could focus a little better. Not nearly enough to have a conversation, but enough to take in his surroundings before it was being pulled away again by something else. Exhaustion.

   The sky was a hazy blue and white with green speckles in every direction. A big black cliff was off to his left side and a few multicolored mountains rose up from behind it. All around him were huge cups of metal. Some were big enough he was sure he could fit inside them. His metal armor. Dropped from where they were on his skin if they weren't attached firmly enough to go along for the ride. He saw his reflection in the nearest one, warped and looking like shit. He used up some energy to close his gaping mouth. Gonna catch flies. Shit. How big are bugs to him now? Forget bugs! The mountains are moving closer! His breathing picked up and heart was racing. Too big. No way something that big could move that fast. He's gonna die. He's gonna die and never see Sammy, Cas, Bobby, Balth or Baby ever again. His breath caught in his throat and heart stuttered. Thunder rolled overhead in clear skies as his eyes drifted upwards. Too weak to turn his head one of the mountains came closer then the others. Not mountain... more like skyscraper. Statue of liberty. The statue of liberty is wearing a tan coat and coming closer. Shit. He's gonna die by the hands of a national landmark. Awesome. The peach statue said something but it wasn't clear, it knew his name, and repeated it as the world went black.

   The last thing he saw was a huge black shoe swing in close to his head and then nothing.

 


	21. Mother's loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jodi Mills and Donna Hanscum are part of the search teams sent out from the Military and Michael's crews to hunt down and bring back Dean and the terrorists. 
> 
> Eve (Cricket's) former life haunts her dreams as she relives painful memories from her childhood.
> 
> Meg was able to infiltrate herself into the facility holding Eve and a friendship is forming between the two ladies.

Chapter 21

Mother's loss

 

 

   Deep down in the woods, two tense female soldiers in rumpled uniforms conversed silently into their com's. Confirming the location of a makeshift campsite in the woods. Tire marks were found where a car was parked but not anywhere where it could have driven into the area. To untrained eyes, the marks all around the stationary tire tread wouldn't add up to much, but to them, painted a picture of how that car made it into the woods past the dense foliage and saplings. Several small trees and overhead branches were knocked over, or completely off, by something far taller then your average hiker.

   That morning, a thin line of smoke was seen above the treetops by some fishermen miles away. It took all day to triangulate where it was coming from in the backwoods, since the winds would twist and turn it so much that the origins were hard to pinpoint. Scouts were sent out to all possible locations and these two soldiers were the lucky ones that found the rather large burned circle in a small clearing first. Each one silently looking forward to that bonus check and already planning on how to spend the money as they searched around the area for more concrete evidence. Turns out the campsite wasn't all that far from the jeep trail. Right between the pounded flat gravel trails of the road, and a freshwater creek a short distance away. There they found a sheet of paper that held apparently English translations to an occult recipe or potion. Several similar words were crossed out and the original Latin or whatever it was, was written in the margins. As if someone was trying to decipher the closest modern day English translation. On the flip side of the sheet held a weird circle with some symbols. _Obvious_ devil worship.

   Private Hanscum grimaced at it, this mission was by far the most dangerous and strange one she'd been sent on. Who in the h - e - double hockey sticks _were_ these people? Who would steal a dangerous monster from the safety of the military? Clearly missing a few crayons, unstable, and devil worshipers to boot! They were obviously not to be trusted or taken lightly. What kind of wack-a-doos want that kind of massive living weapon released into the world?

   The search and recover teams were sent out to the four winds from the still smoldering husk of the airplane hanger to find any trace of where the monster had been taken. Every road, trail, and even stream, headed out from the warehouse were being scoured for signs of life _or_ death. Someone had found evidence near the warehouse of tire marks in unlikely places skirting just inside the surrounding woods, and discarded wrappers in an area that they figured the terrorists set up shop to monitor the goings on at the warehouse before the operation. Two more spots found on the other sides opposite in a triangle, probably so they could get every angle of the area studied and calculated. Plotting and planning this thing well before the attack.

   Even if they weren't strictly terrorists, they were dealing with dangerous professionals that successfully made off with a living government-owned weapon. It seemed to be only a two man crew in a black classic muscle car, but they could easily be decoys. Why else would they drive such a unique vehicle? In addition to searching the woods and mountains and streams, many were ordered to find and search every semi in the state, as well as every plane large enough to fit Subject Two's dimensions. Fully accepting and expecting the fact that they could belong to a much bigger organization that dwells in the shadows. The two major ones in charge of the search teams included the owner of the warehouse, Michael Swordsman and the leader of the facility that had once housed the escaped monster, General Naom. Formerly business friends, they were now at odds. Each one demanding that the other boost their search teams to find the dragon again and retrieve it back to its _rightful_ owner. Michael paid for the dragon but on paper it still belonged to the military. Michael blamed the General for allowing massive leaks of information out about the dragons new location, and the General was blaming Michael for everything else. Lack of security, and capable containment being at the forefront. Before long, both cut friendly ties to each other. Waging war on the other with words and lawyers and blackmailing threats. The search parties kept on searching until they heard differently. According to the leaders, it was a race to see which group would find and claim the monster first.

   Occasionally, the search teams would run across the opposing search team, wave, and keep on hunting. They weren't at war with each other, just their bosses. If only the two leaders knew that half of the search teams gave up and were currently spending most of their time camping out and generally fucking around. All the while reporting back bogus leads and claiming they were tracking the monster down.

   Yeah, _right_. How often does a chance like this come around to get some _paid_ R &R? Ignoring the fact that their boss's don't know that it's basically R&R for those out in the sticks... Not many were eager to find the famed monster, at _all_ , because it did reduce two massive facilities to _ashes_. Each time within mere hours start to finish. What chance would those humans have against the monster in its native element? Cover and resources aplenty? With crazy armed hunters on its side? The monster could have an unknown number of allies holding an unknown number, make, model, and type of weapon? The monster itself was a living weapon that was smart enough to strategize its escape, _TWICE_. The first time while being drugged out of his mind. The second time it was inside a cage with no door. So what did it do to fix that problem? It set fire to the freakin' cage! And then as it left, the white hot metal melted and molded to its body and it freakin' shrugged it off like it was nothing. Then it proceeded to muscle its way through the collapsing building towards the exit like it was taking a stroll through the park. All while being shot at and, sometimes, literally on fire. Or so Michael's men said...

   Seriously, what chance do parties of two or three soldiers have against THAT? So, of course, many of the search teams gave it their whole 23% and went fishing once they were out of the boss's line of sight. Sending out their trained K-9 units with their GPS locators in the dog's packs, ordering them to find rabbits for supper. And if that didn't work, they teamed up with 3 or more other search teams to have their dogs just go back and forth in a circle between them. Supplying the dogs with a scent to follow from one of their other search teams, and mixing it up just enough to not be so obvious. Giving the ones at the monitors back at base the illusion that they were still on the move and hunting down the target. A few teams still had some pride, and searched into the night for the targets. The bonus checks were nothing to brush off for those struggling with mortgages.

   The two rumpled soldiers, Mills and Hanscum, knew what to look for, and found a partial huge clawed footprint close to the stream, and a few inside the bed of the stream. Not yet washed away by the water and sediment due to their sheer size. A couple of glints of light were seen under the water's surface and matched several similar plate-like things that were on the banks. Metal in slightly curved bowls. Aluminum and iron ones, a few had both metals, with the outer side smooth as butter, and the other textured and rough, the pattern in the inside of the bowl gave the impression of snakeskin. Very fine lines running parallel on down each shallow metal cup and in a perfect replica of the monster's scales. The rumor that the monster had metal melted onto its hide during the escape was now confirmed.

   Mills ran a finger along the inside of it and imagined what the monster looks like now that it's 'bedazzled'. She snickered into her hand and waved off her bubbly partner. At first Mills wasn't too thrilled to have Missus Sunshine for a search partner, but the woman retained her professionalism throughout this mission. Mills had learned to watch her tongue around the other woman, and likewise, Hanscum learned to tread lightly when talking about her partner's past. It couldn't be easy loosing a husband. Even though Hanscum had finally divorced her verbally abusive husband, she could still relate to that feeling of loss. They bonded quickly over this mission and worked well as a team.

   Mills and Hanscum took numerous photos of the area, measuring the prints and came up with theories as to what went down in this very small clearing. Despite the trouble the previous inhabitants of this area went through to hide their marks, there was still evidence of several large game animals being taken down, as well as smaller ones if those bones they bagged turned out to be rabbit as Hanscum said. They were half buried in the burn pit, along with two more of those metal cups. Hanscum joked about the fugitives mixing up their fairy-tale stories, and that they should simply follow the trail of metal cups like breadcrumbs. Mills considered it and smirked approvingly. Not a bad idea. They formed a field report and sent it back to base over the secured line, all the while keeping an eye on their surroundings in case the fugitives returned. The message sent back to their two woman search team told them to stay put and await further orders.

   Since all of the search teams were still spread out, they had to get everyone together at that new location to continue out from there. Using the new location and the airplane hanger as two dots on a line, they would soon continue it out from there more then the other directions. Narrowing their search grid by many miles as well as pooling their men and women into larger groups. No one could afford to go charging in to attack the vicious dragon solo or even 5 person teams. They'd need to gather _everyone_ and attack at once. Safety in numbers.

   They were also very aware of the subject's defenses and natural weapons. If the fugitives set fire to the woods with 'Spike's' accelerant, the whole valley could burn to the ground and containment would be nearly impossible. For this search and seizure they needed to wait until the monster was surrounded by more rocks then plants and of course, away from civilization. A plan was being formed back at base to either drive the monster and human fugitives into a nearby rock quarry, or force them into a lake. Effectively negating the dragon's deadliest weapon.

   One of the female soldiers spoke up while covering her microphone, nodding for her companion to do the same. “Jody-o, I don't know why they're so danged keen on getting Spike back themselves. We've already got the other one in training now. Word from Suzy from the base is that he's nearly ready.” Hanscum waved her free hand into the air in exasperation.

   Mills nodded and said, “Well, Donna, I heard that he was still temperamental. Even more unpredictable then Spike. Between you, me, and that tree, I think that it was stupid of them to turn another monster hunter into one of those things. Especially _that_ crazy bastard.”

   “Gordon volunteered.” Donna informed.

   “All the more reason _not_ to use him. The kind of person that would want to become a powerful monster is one that should never get to have all that power.” Jody then clarified, “My mother told me a quote that kinda pertains to this situation, 'The ones that want to lead should not be allowed to do so.' I think it makes sense. You give anyone that wishes to be stronger then everyone else, immeasurable power, and they wont ever stop or slow down. Always wanting more power and control, loosing themselves to greed and pride, and potentially killing anyone that stands in their way.”

   “I'm sorry Jody-o, you're not making a lick of sense.” Donna gave a small grin.

   “As an extreme example, imagine someone like Hitler, someone that feels so strongly about 'cleansing' a country of anyone less then 'perfect' that they're willing to kill everyone that's not. Now look at Mr. Gordon Walker. His excessive hatred for all things supernatural is not going to end with the death of all monsters.” She stated firmly, “Once he's done doing what the military plans for him, what's to stop him from wanting more destruction? Power? Those kinds of monster's can't be reasoned with, or trained. The harmless ones are usually not massively huge with nearly impenetrable skin, covered with spikes and claws, and they usually do not breath toxic fumes that can easily set anything on fire. Everything about those dragons just _screams_ danger. Compared to that, we humans are as harmless as newborn kittens without our weapons. Now they're changing people into massive powerful dragons, and thinking that they're still going to listen to some kittens in suits.” Mills said and looked off towards the creek. “Truth is, is that we don't know what turning them into dragon's is going to do to their minds.”

   “Spike seemed fine.” Donna shrugged and took a few steps around the old campsite. “He was once a human monster hunter, and he didn't loose his soul.” she circled the area again, rifle slung back into her hands as she scanned the wood line, and added after a moment of consideration, “If you ask me, Spike had a hard life and the more I see, the more I feel for the poor thing. He never asked to be turned into a monster. Or treated like one. He could have easily killed everyone at both facilities but instead focused on escaping over fighting. Deep down inside, I'm starting to think he still has his human heart and soul in that monster body.”

   “Maybe, but if you ask me, Gordon Walker lost his soul long before he became a monster.” Jody grimaced and said, “He killed his own sister after she turned into a vampire. And then he went on a savage monster killing spree and slaughtered even harmless supernatural creatures. Anything that wasn't human was evil in his eyes. Never-minding the fact that there are just as many good creatures as bad. We just don't hear about the good ones as much because they aren't out to kill humans. There's no reason to hunt them down.”

   “You one-a us monster defenders?” Donna chuckled, genuinely pleased to find another one in the military. “Most of the time people give me grief for looking on the bright side. Seeing the good in things that are not quite as human as you an me. They say, 'Oi! Donna! You gonna put a bumper sticker on your Prius for creature clemency?' Just _mean_ don'tchaknow.” she shifted her weight to the other foot and wagged a finger in the air, “I tell them to think about it from the critter's point of view. I say to them, 'If you didn't want in on this monster retrieval division, they you shouldn't have accepted the offer in the first place'.” Donna nodded to herself, “It's not as easy as cops and robbers. Some critters just can't help being different. Sad we only see the bad ones.”

   Jody Mills thought about it for a moment and agreed with her. What would it be like to be a monster that hates itself for what it is? Hurt and hunted. She had to put it aside to focus on her job at hand. They did not have the luxury of time to get to know the real Spike. He was too big and dangerous to be left alone out in the real world.

   They both resumed their patrol of the area, making sure that no clue went unnoticed. Mentally readying their reports when they are eventually joined by everyone else from their garrison. No doubt they will be questioned endlessly for what they first saw when entering the small clearing. Jody went over the photos again, making sure that they were clear and concise enough for the higher ups.

   After another hour, they heard distant car horns going off briefly to the west. They looked to each other and then in the guessed direction of the sounds. Since the mountains and cliffs bounced sound everywhere, it was extremely difficult to pinpoint the location from where they were. If they hadn't been ordered to stay put, they would have started the trek out that way. As it is, Donna radioed it in and asked for backup to hurry their keesters.

 

 

   Deep underground at the half demolished military base, a low rumbling was heard and felt in the very ground the soldiers walked on. Many took the extra time to avoid that particular bunker when they went about their business. Memories of what happened the last time one of them was upset still gave the younger recruits nightmares.

   “Eve hasn't been this worked up since the day she birthed the other one.”

   “Yeah, remind me again why we are still working here?”

   The other one shrugged and they moved a little faster to the mess hall to get away from the vibrating epicenter.

   Behind a wall of solid steel with silver plating laid an immense monster that had silky scaly black skin covering nearly every inch of her winged body. The heaters were removed from her area when it was learned that she was more active the warmer she became. To keep her sluggish and tired, they kept the room below 50 degrees for a great majority of the day. She shivered and twitched about, curling into herself to find some iota of warmth, and finding none. The strange bipeds with their growing number of strange flat rocks would come in every day to growl at her and to each other in low tones. Most of the time too quiet for her to make out in her sleep addled mind. She had just drifted off again after their last visit. She almost welcomed their visits because that meant that the cave with the straight walls she was in would heat up a little.

   She gradually realized that they needed heat to function just like she did but were more sensitive to the changes in it. They could not stay in her cave for very long without shivering themselves, and giving off all kinds of scents that signal their bodies distress. When she'd first woken up in this cave after they attacked her, she tried to communicate with them. That fire fight in her woodland territory took so much out of her that she had to take a long time to heal. She was loath to admit it but they were superior in strength when they were together and fighting as one with those things they carried in their hands. The flying metal things were the worst and even though she gave it her all, they swarmed her and brought her to her knees.

   She only fought because she thought that they had her boy. Stolen him right from his nest. She couldn’t find her son here, no matter how many times she called for him. It had been so long since she'd seen her home. The woods and mountains, the safety of the cliffs and the smile on her boy's face. She had hoped to defeat these powerful bipeds, but over time, her resolve had crumbled to dust. Her boy was probably dead. And a part of her, a very, very small part of her was glad at that thought. Only because that would mean that he wasn't suffering this same fate. The not-knowing was really the hardest part of this imprisonment. At least she had a chance to say goodbye to her first litter after they died. Laying them to rest in the Drauglin way. Her three daughters were killed before they even had a chance to hatch. She wondered what they would have looked like.

   Her thoughts drifted to the one that's responsible. It was a male biped that was the tallest she'd seen. Not saying much when dealing with the little bipeds, but still, he was stronger then her babies and that's all that mattered. She recalled coming back after finding her future Drauglin son, to see his litter mate hacking away at the eggs with a sharp stick. She cursed herself for fleeing the nest site. She'd never seen a biped act that way. So _hostile_. So vicious. At first she feared he would go after the other male biped she caught. The hatred filled his eyes and the scent of blood lust filled the air around him. She had taken her male biped to the safety of a cliff and prepared him for his new Drauglin life. Leaving him there to get used to the idea. It worked before with her second girl. The others wouldn't stop wailing and so she prepared them quickly to ease their minds before they died of fright.

   A whimpered sigh escaped her after she'd left her male biped alone on the cliff. She hoped that he would stay put for his own good. She wished she could just stay with him through it all but she had to see what had happened at the nest site. If any of her girls had made it through that attack. And, to deal with the attacker. She saw the smoke rise long before she made it back to the nest. Landing beside it, she saw what had become of her home and whimpered at the loss of life. She dipped her nose into the fire and sought out any movement underneath. A part of her knowing already that the babies wouldn't have the strong skin to withstand fire yet. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. The scent of death was overpowering. She didn't even detect the tall male until he was roaring at her no more then a hands length away.

   She felt so many tiny impacts all over her face as the metal things he was holding were pointed at her head. A couple stung pretty bad and she demanded that he stop the assault. She pinned him down when he refused to listen and they fought back and forth. It was like fighting a rabid pissed off bear and she'd had enough. She wanted to punish him and readied herself to set him ablaze. Surprisingly he dodged it and she realized belatedly that she was all out of fire and couldn't finish the job. She'd have to use her hands to squash this insect. Just as she was about to strike, he started to slash at her with that long metal stick, cutting deep into her arms and chest and everywhere he could reach. This biped was either very brave, very stupid or wanted to die _very badly._

   She flew into the air just high enough to avoid his metal stick and pinned him to the ground. Now that the little bastard was immobile she waited just long enough for the fight to leave him. She lifted up her hands and let him breath for a second. Hopefully now he will be more reasonable. Bipeds weren't usually this combative. He must have a reason. She'd never hurt anyone and wanted to know just what the hell he was thinking going after her family like that. He had a peculiar scent around him. Sadness, anger, and underneath it all, he smelled very similar to the other biped she had taken away. _Oh._ They were related. Another inhale confirmed it and she grumbled at him. This complicated things.

   She gave herself a moment to think about what to do now. He seemed to be fighting to live now. Breathing shallowly and the scent of pain was overpowering. She cursed her motherly instincts. This tall male was angry because it thought that she had hurt his litter mate. Well that was just ridiculous. She told him to stay down and to leave her alone. She then said that she wouldn’t kill him so long as he _stopped attacking her_. She understood that he was probably driven to violence by fear. He must have seen her kill the deer and thought that he and his litter mate were next. Her biped male was sent to distract her while the tall one went about killing the nest. She'd seen this before while observing some animals. One time, a pair of large tan cats killed a couple of bear cubs while the mother bear was foraging, then went after her next. She stayed out of it, not wanting that kind of predator to see her babies as the enemy. She couldn't always be at the nest to watch over them. She knew instinctively that this was a possibility, that her babies could be hunted, she just never expected a biped to be the most violent animal in the woods. Bipeds were basically _harmless_. Usually. She was surprised that they could survive at all without fangs or claws or any defenses at all. That is why she chose them for her offspring. Take these weak things and make them stronger. She thought that they die too easily as they are, and once they're born again, they will see how much better it is being a Drauglin.

   He was a fighter. She had to admit. If she were to try again with her own offspring, it would be best to have ones that could defend themselves against things much bigger then themselves. This one might also make a good Drauglin son.

   She looked him over and thought that that was a good idea, but not now. She had much more important things on her mind.

   She walked sadly over to the smoldering ashes of her nest. She longed to have had the chance to see their faces. See what they'd grow up to look like, to act like. She had planned on teaching them everything that she and her small family were taught all those years ago. She even figured out new things that they would need to know. The flying metal things, the ones that rolled around on the ground, the biped colony that resided to the south. How to hunt and hide, to live and grow up in peace with their surroundings. To find their own paths, territories, personalities. She found herself crying for the loss of all that. The void in her heart. She could no longer take the sight of her burning babies and pulled over handfuls of dirt to cover them up. There was nothing left for the scavengers to take. She kept on pulling over the dirt, rocks and then grasses. They deserved to be at peace. Once there was nothing left seen of the nest, she unearthed a few plants and laid them on top. A symbol for them to be reborn again as a part of nature.

   She rested her hand on the mound silently. Saying her last goodbyes and apologies.

   She lifted up her head to look at the tall biped again. Poor stupid thing didn't even know what it was doing. She turned to leave. There was nothing for her here anymore.

   As she walked, she soon heard that male following after her. Calling out as if he was the one in distress. She was just too tired to fight him and chose to ignore him. He got what he wanted. Her babies were gone. She had to start all over now. The thing was now making noises to himself behind her. Clearly insane. If he was trying to talk to her he was doing a piss poor job of it. She looked back at him as his scent kept following the air currents. She couldn’t help but smell his pain and fear. After a few failed attempts to reason and communicate with him, he threw a rock into her mouth and she swallowed it on accident. Damned weird bipeds. Enough of this. She has to go back to her future son and make sure nothing bad had happened to him. She can come back for this one later when he's ready to stop being weird. He was still in her territory and therefore belonged to her, regardless if she wanted him or not. She had to admit that having a fighter like that for a son would help ease her mind. He could defend his mate and territory. The one back at the cliff didn’t seem so weird except for the fact he was terrified of heights. That was obvious enough when she'd taken off with him. He was more scared of flying then he was fighting her. She wasn't dumb, she knew how she must look to small animals like bears and tan cats. Anything that was willing to take her on must have some great will to survive.

   Turning the biped at the cliff was easier then she thought. After he'd calmed down inside her mouth, it was actually quite nice to feel that warmth inside her again. She had a little fun playing with him in her mouth, he seemed to like it too because he tickled back with his fingers pawing everywhere inside her mouth. She found a nice spot to lay down and take her time getting him down. The warmth from his body trailed down her long neck and eased her mind the further down he went until he finally found his rightful place inside her. She was so content and happy to feel that motherhood feeling again that she actually forgot about the other male for a few days. By the time she went back for him, he was long gone. Probably died from his injuries. She was sad, but determined to be the best mother to her one son as she could be. She hunted and ate nearly nonstop so once she laid the egg, she did not have to leave its side until he hatched. She even waited two more days for him to be mobile enough to leave the nest.

   Her eyes shown with pride at how he turned out. Similar to her overall shape but mostly tan and freckled on the undersides like his former skins. Adventurous and brave, he was already hunting down rats and rabbits. He gave her the first bird he ever caught and she praised him nonstop. She showed him how much she enjoyed eating it and encouraged him to hunt for himself now. He took to it like a natural and she taught him how to take down larger game. They found a whole herd of black and white animals and the boy chattered and chirped for one of them to hunt on his own. She gently coaxed him back to the nest and the next morning surprised him with one of them. She'd broken its leg so it would be easy for him to finish off. His skills were growing rapidly and even though he showed no sign of wanting to fly, he still used his wings. He discovered he could use them to bring up scents from the ground to his nose. She smiled at that, even she never thought of using her wings for tasks other then flying. It was that kind of adaptation that would ensure that he'd live a long life.

   Or would have.

   It was a normal day filled with normal sights and sounds and activities. If she'd had known that this would be the last time she'd see her son, she would have never left his side. She should have noticed the way he was acting. He'd never once bitten her so hard to make her bleed. She was startled and sent him back to the nest as punishment. If she'd had known...

   Then, there was no sign of him. He'd disappeared. When she finally noticed that it was too quiet, she knew something was wrong. Her boy should have been begging to come join her in hunting for food. Chirped at her until she got fed up and gave in to his pleads. But there was nothing. No chirps, no sounds of him trying to be sneaky, no scent of fire to signal that he was practicing his abilities. Nothing. She ran back to the nest, it was cold and there were tracks all around it. How long was she gone? It couldn't have been that long! The wind had picked up and was messing with all of the scents in the area. It kept on changing directions and making it hard to follow where the trail went. There was an undeniable scent of bile in one of the plants nearby, she grimaced at it. It wasn't from her boy... she reluctantly took a few more sniffs in the area and jolted to the fact that she knew that scent that was nearby. It was the same male biped that had killed her first nest!

   She was _pissed_! She roared into the woods with nothing but venom and rage in her voice. First he kills her girls then he comes back and kills her boy! What's even worse is that he was actually _related to him_! How could he do something so _awful_? Wretched filth! She wanted to murder that bastard in the worst way and set him on fire before eating him and shitting out his still smoldering bones into a rotting deer corpse. She ground her teeth hard enough to send sparks everywhere. Bits of her rear teeth were actually breaking off with how hard she clenched them.

   She nearly set fire to the whole forest but stopped herself when she realized that if her boy was still alive, he could be hurt by it. She wasn't sure if his skin was thick enough. It should be, but she wasn't going to risk it. The fire would also destroy any trail that they might have left behind if that bastard biped managed to drag her boy away. Her nose hit the dirt and she started to try and track them down. There was another scent along side the bastard's. Older male. Smells like those metal flying things that drip black blood. She wouldn't show him any mercy either. Probably the alpha of their small pack. No matter.

   Whenever she came across a hint of her boy's scent, she'd give a call out to him. Listening quietly for any kind of response back. Her cries were becoming hopeless and desperate. She just wanted him _home_. She even called out to the bastard biped and begged him to just bring her boy back. To not hurt him. To spare him. Her last call was a plead for him to take her life instead of the boy's. After that she was too drained of emotion. Sobbing into her side as she curled inward. Her boy was probably already dead and it was all her fault. She should have been watching him non-stop. She should have killed the bastard when she had the chance. She shouldn't have sent her son away as punishment for tearing her wing. She'd let him rip her body to shreds if it meant he was _still around_. She never thought that loosing him would hurt this much. She was convinced that she was cursed. She wasn't supposed to be a mother. This was a sign that she was supposed to be the last. There had been no sign whatsoever of other Drauglin since she was a young kit and said goodbye to her sister.

   The sounds of the forest died down around her. There was no point in moving or trying anymore, so she did nothing besides mourn her loss.

   When the metal flying things came soon after, she had a glimmer of hope that they were bringing her boy back home. That she could be reunited again or at the very least, they'd lead her to him. The old male's scent was strikingly similar to them. He must have been constantly surrounded by large metal things with black blood. She made her way to a clearing so that she could see them better and they could see her. Once they were in sight however, things were flying at her at incredible speeds. She was blinded by all of the light, sound and then pain. Her roars and warnings fell on deaf ears as the things pounded into the clearing and then into her. She took to the air, only to be pushed back down again by another round of impacts. Her wings felt like they were being ripped off. Her fire only went so high and the metal things just dodged her attacks by going higher. She flapped her wings as hard as she could but apparently they were their main target because they lit up with fire. The excruciating pain rocked her whole body and she had no more fight left in her. If these bipeds stole her boy, then he was as good as dead because they obviously wanted her dead as well. They didn't even try to talk to her, even the tall bastard biped seemed to want to communicate once, these bipeds were after blood. They were going to get it whether she wanted to give it or not.

   At this point, she didn't even know what she would have preferred.

   She felt herself loosing focus and the impacts slowed considerably. All fight left her as she laid down onto her side. Panting so hard that the plants were at risk of being inhaled or flattened with the exhale. Her mind started to wander. Those sleep pictures coming up again when all she wanted to do was stay awake, alert. To keep fighting. There's no time for sleeping now even though her body was demanding it. Every single part of her ached. Her wings may have well be cut off with how torn and broken as they were. With what little strength she had she folded them back up somewhat close to her body. For some reason they were more interested in damaging her wings then her body so to save them, she tucked them in as close as she could but knew that it was basically too late. Spikes of pain shot through her as each broken wing bone made itself known. Each pain filled tear in the membrane started to dull as time passed.

   She was distantly aware of numerous bipeds circling her at a distance. She started to growl at them but it came out as a gurgling mess of noise. More panting just to keep those lungs satisfied. She could feel each inhale as it pushed her chest forward into the ground her long neck curled in a little and she watched as the circle of bipeds tightened around her. She rumbled at them to stay back but her mind started to give out on her right after her sleek black body did. She could smell all the blood around her body, pooling out from her wings and hated it. The humiliation of being taken down by some of the weakest creatures in existence turned her stomach... the only thing that was untouched by the small rocks that they threw at her wings and body, and even _that_ felt awful.

   The circle of bipeds stopped once they were just beyond her reach and they did nothing but stand there for a long while. Or maybe it wasn't. Time was no longer a reliable measurement for events. A pressure on her body made her flinch and jerk her head up to see what it was. Something was being lowered on top of her from one of those metal flying things. Then more things dripped from it like tied metal vines and all at once, all of the bipeds descended on her like a pack of wolves. She snapped at a few but by then, she simply had no strength left to fight it. They looped several metal vines around her mouth and head and suddenly she couldn't even open her mouth anymore. It was somehow pulled to her side and bound to her body and more vines were looped around her and then under her with long metal sticks being used to push them all around where the bipeds couldn't, or rather, didn't _want_ to reach by hand. All the while bipeds were calling out to each other as they worked together to bind her completely.

   It was over in just moments. Her mind was fading fast and thoughts were hard to focus on. When she woke up, she realized she had slept in the presence of the enemy... and lived. She was only aware of that fact for a few seconds before she was out again, only vaguely aware that she was flying over treetops and cliffs but she wasn't using her wings to do so. They were still bound tightly to her belly and flanks. She had the impression that the flying metal thing wasn't alone anymore and that at least 4 others were all going to the same place she was heading.

   Sleep claimed her again, more deeply this time and her mind was filled with deep memories. These kinds of images and sounds always followed her around but never made much sense. She was able to ignore them most of the time, forgetting them in those few moments after waking. But seeing those flying metal things and the coordination of all of those bipeds in one place, the sight of it, the sounds, jarred something loose deep inside her mind. It was _so damned familiar_.

   A pale face that kept on appearing was now speaking to her. His hair was light brown and was wavy, his eyes shown brightly and he would gently gather up her long braided black hair in his hands and rub his cheek against it, lean forward and kiss her tenderly and whisper words of love and promises. Her skin was nearly as black as her hair but he didn't care at all. Others did, they made their love a taboo. Something to keep hidden. Some nights they'd scream about the injustice of it all. But it never dulled their love for each other, only strengthened it. Their resolve to stay together throughout anything was stronger then their will to break them apart. Then. There was the _letter_.

   There was a great war going on, her love, her betrothed, was supposed to fight in it. But it was a violent battle. The threat of death hung over everyone that went into it. She loved him... oh so very _much_. Wanted him to stay and not travel over those vast waters. The enemy was cunning, ruthless, and hid in the trees, burning everyone and everything with horribly unnatural flames that cannot be doused. Not even in a that distant forest that rains nonstop. The name, _napalm_ rose to mind, but had no origin, just the image of someone on fire, kneeling and pleading. More square black and white images flickered, and one made her weep, a line of massive black clouds engulfing a town that had no chance to defend itself or escape from it. So much suffering and death. Her mate saw how much she hated the battle, how much she feared for his life and he made a solemn promise to run away with her from it. Only then would they be safe. They would flee their home, his land and head far north. They gathered a few items that would not be missed by their families, and left in the middle of the night, telling no one.

   He led her deep into the woods, so very far from their homes and safety, familiar things, comforts, and places, traveling only at night and resting during the daytime in small wooden shelters away from the sounds of life. They shivered more and more the closer they came north, their coverings no longer adequate for the chill in the air. But they pressed on because turning back now would mean death for them both. He deserted his people, and she was always seen as less then the pale skinned. All the leaders would need is an excuse to execute. So they stayed hidden, stayed together, stayed true to their love and their plan. Everything’s going to change when they reach the northern boarder. Everything’s going to be alright. They're going to grow old and happy together. Their children will flourish and be beautiful, strong, and above all, kind.

   Promises. Kept and torn apart.

   Sadly, everything _did_ change.

   They were caught in a rainstorm that froze to everything it touched. They found a quiet deep cave to spend the night in, waiting for it to blow over or pass them by. He was able to light one of the last candles they had and set it in the lantern, intent on exploring this cave to pass the time. No wood would burn and the deeper they traveled into the cave, the warmer it became. Soon, they saw a dim light up ahead and thought that there were others taking refuge in it. At first she was wary of meeting anyone while they were traveling, but he talked her into it, saying that if they are living in a cave out here in the middle of nowhere then they are most likely hiding from the battle as well. In any case, they could use a few moments of warm fire to bring their bodies back to life. Both of them were drawn inexorably towards it like moths to a flame.

   They only had a moment to glimpse the great cavern that was bathed in the warm inviting glow, before a massive shape moved along the back wall. They almost didn’t catch it in the flickering light. Eyes drawn to the fire in the middle and finally seeing the antlered skull in the center of it. No wood, only animal bodies.

   She let out a shriek of terror and he whorled around to shield her eyes and body from the sight and danger, and then they were both overcome by a crushing weight. They were torn from each others arms and flung to opposite sides of the cavern. They landed badly and could barely breath. The shape moved over to him and covered him head to toe from her sight. She whimpered and cried for him to get up and run but that only angered the thing. It spun around and she saw a massive jaw open, a flash of light, and then nothing.

   With new hands she felt around herself. Muffled murmurs and sounds of loving encouragement. Growling grumbles that should have sounded frightening with how loud they were, were now felt as soothing. She pushed out at the concave dome she found herself in, and air rushed into her lungs once an opening was made. She coughed and felt more alive with each breath. She pushed and clawed and bit at the soft material that surrounded her and found herself blearily looking at a giant muzzle. A long tongue snaked out and lapped at her face and body. Soothingly and insistently. Guiding her out and cleaning her thoroughly and gently, she could feel the care and love in each tender prod. A second set of arms was stretched out during the cleaning and she flexed her long fingers on those arms from her back. She could feel a membrane between all of her thin fingers except for her thumb, that moved freely. Her head lolled back in front of her where she saw her first pudgier set of arms again and flexed those fingers next. Movement from behind her got her attention and the large being huffed with affection and mirth as it brought a long tail in front of her eyes. She gazed at it and it started to move in time with those sensations. It was hers. That fact made more apparent because her whole body was nearly pitch black, while the larger one's overall coloring was a medium brown. The huge being was murmuring things to her, love, happiness, eagerness to show her everything. Teach her everything.

   The tongue and mouth were warm as it went about waking up her limbs, getting the blood flowing. She squirmed under its ministrations and discovered that she wasn't alone. Another body was next to hers and also moving around sporadically and wanting attention. That one felt closer to her then even her own. She had the deepest connection to it. He belonged to her and she to him. Both of them were trying to figure out how their new bodies worked after finally escaping the soft oval shells. His skin was pale on the underside and light tan on the top. His long muzzle was thick and dark brown along with his four curled paws. His tail was thinner and whip like and his scales were so small they looked more like skin then armor. Unlike her, he didn't have large wings, but it was clear that he was going to be far bulkier and stronger. Chirps were heard from above and they found themselves chirping back with rasping sounds mixed in. All of their past worries melted away along with their excess strength. After all the excitement and energy spent, they fell asleep curled around each other and their new mother curled around them both, protecting them from the cold.

   Days passed in a blur of charred pre-masticated deer meat and then, after a few more days, fresher flesh that was only lightly cooked. Most of mother's fire went to keeping the cave floor warm and radiating heat. When mother spoke to her, the same sounds came up every time. Her name. She thought it was kinda nice, _Cricket_. Her mate had a new name too, _Kazz_. He didn't like it very much, insisting it wasn't right but when she asked, his gaze went far away and he couldn't say why.

   A week passed and they grew stronger and bigger every day. Now about twice the size as when they were born. Mother would go out every day but be back with food each time before they got too cold. Setting their meals on fire to cook it and to warm the stone floor they slept on. Kazz and Cricket's nest was taken apart and fresh evergreen was added along with dry grasses before it was reformed again. They slept in it but it was almost as if mother didn't want them too, insisting that they get used to sleeping on the hard ground. They waited until she left to nap in the nest and giggled when they heard her coming back and got out before she saw. They couldn’t fool mother and she nipped at them to back up from it. Loosing their nest privileges for good. Kazz was angry, Cricket obeyed but swore to herself that if she ever had kids, she'd let them live in the cozy nest as long as they wanted.

   The next day, the two of them were left alone for the entire day. They started getting worried and chirped and called out to her but heard no response back like they were used to. This night turned colder then the rest and Cricket tried to sleep on the stone cold burn mark on the cave floor. Giving up on finding any residual warmth there, she tip toed over to the nest and tried to sleep in it with one eye and ear open. Kazz, meanwhile, went to the opening and chirruped there. Venturing so slowly out of the cave and the area that Cricket didn't see him for the rest of the night, just heard his calls fading into the night. When he came back in the morning, his whole being _felt_ differently. Moved differently. He even looked at _her_ differently. Like he'd never seen her before and now saw only a dangerous enemy. The look of horror on his young face frightened her. Suddenly, he turned and ran from the cave. Calling out desperately for his love, his mate – a word he used that sounded like 'wife' but held the same meaning to him. But that wasn't right, she was _right there_ , still in the cave. His calls turned to wails that were just barely heard in the whipping snowstorm. Kazz's strides were longer and he stumbled often but he was driven further and further from her returning calls.

   She tried to follow but he was always stronger then her, bigger, and now he was just _gone_. Cricket looked back and couldn't quite make out where the cave was, just the mass of black shadows behind the whiteout. If she went any further, her trail would be blown away by the snow before she'd return. Lost. All alone. All she wanted was for Kazz, her love, to come back, wait for Mother to come back. Just _come back_! She cried long into the night until her limbs became stiff and hurt. It was getting very hard for her to move her toes and her wings crinkled when she wrapped herself up tighter with them. Small drops of blood formed along some of her black scales. Skin freezing solid and cracking. She couldn't stop herself from staying put and calling out for him. Cricket'd rather die then loose Kazz. She set off in his direction, having made up her mind to do just that. If he wasn't coming back, there was nothing for her at the cave.

   She only made it 40 feet before her body froze up completely and she collapsed to her side.

   She woke up days later back in the cave. It was warm again, bright, and her mother was rumbling apologies over and over to her. She cracked open her eyes and hoped that she'd find Kazz there. Mother _must have_ found him out there and brought him back. All Cricket found were two large eggs inside the rebuilt nest that she and her mate used to share when they were fledglings. Cricket struggled to her feet and mother encouraged her, and insisted that she eats. She refused, seeing the single deer and knew that mother needed it more to feed her future siblings and Kazz when he comes back. Mother apologized again and again. She did find him, but it was too late. He'd fallen off of a huge cliff in the snowstorm and broke his neck. Mother insisted it was painless and quick. Distantly, Cricket wondered who mother was trying to convince because she could hear it in the voice that mother didn't think that was what happened.

   Cricket was _devastated_. Her mother tried to console her and promised that she'd make another mate for her. A stronger one, a more suitable one with wings.

   Her jaw dropped for just a moment as it sunk in. Before mother could react, Cricket ran from the cave, finding clear skies outside and deep snows. She ran as fast and far as her worn out legs could take her. When she finally came across a cliff, she flung herself off of it without a moment's hesitation. Her voice whispering into the howling wind as it rushed past her, 'I’m coming my love.'

   Her traitorous wings snapped out of their own volition and she glided down to the canyon below. She tried _twice_ to pull her wings in and to just drop from the air like a lifeless rock, but they stayed resolutely open and locked into place, and she cursed them viciously. She could hear mother calling somewhere in the distance, begging her to come back or show herself so that she can be found and brought home again.

   Cricket landed hard into some evergreens, and righted herself before she lost her lunch. She cursed again and refused to move from the branches to continue her decent to the forest floor. The only decent cover from her mother's sharp eyes as the massive shadow flew over the treetops. Finally alone with her thoughts, she wept silently for hours. The sky was growing dark again and she heard mother calling into the night, from nearly all sides and angles. Whenever the frantic cries became too loud, Cricket bit down on her fist to keep herself from crying and giving away her position. Mother was promising everything over and over, but nothing was going to change her mind. If anything the sounds of promises made her resolve more sound. She was going to die and find her love again in the next life.

   The night turned cold again, just like before but this time there was no snowstorm. She stayed in the tree for two full days. Her stomach no longer growled, resigned to the fact that there was nothing for it. Late in the third day, she finally slipped off of the bough and fell to the ground below. Shivering and sad, she turned to go back home again. All that time was spent thinking about why her love ran away. It came to her when she was half asleep. What he said, the way he looked at her, he was blaming a monster for killing his wife. The words were foreign and familiar to her and it just clicked. He thought she was responsible for her own death. That the small black dragon killed her old self. He _lost his mind_. Didn't he see that he was a 'monster' too? What is a 'monster' anyway? She was sad that he saw her like that. She may be different now, but she was no monster.

   Guilt crept up on her when she no longer heard her mother's calls. Only now realizing she hadn't heard a single one in over a day. It was cruel to do that to Mother. Mother'd already lost him and now her... she had to go back. Tell Mother why her mate left. To ask her for forgiveness for leaving too and if she was welcomed back home.

   When she got back to the cave, she wished she'd stayed away. Blood streaked the entire floor of the unforgivably cold cave. Her mother was dead. The body was laying, broken and covered in blood along the far wall. The nest was smashed to pieces. Two egg shells remained but no blood around them besides her mother's. One massive wing was curved protectively around the destroyed nest. Frozen still like a statue. Cricket just now noticed that both of Mother's curved horns were missing, cut off at the base, along with her fangs and one of her hands. She would have thrown up at the sight if she had any food in her at all. Nausea hit anyway and she stumbled to her knees. Pitiful whimpers echoed in the cave and came back to her like mournful wails.

   There was a lingering scent of something all over the cavern. She didn't know what it was, but knew that it killed her mother. It would pay for what it did to her. To her siblings...

   Cricket immediately got to her wobbly feet and staggered over to the destroyed nest, trying and failing not to look at her mother's still lifeless body. She had to walk around a dried pool of blood around one of her mother's broken wings. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she stepped around it, going more by feel then sight as she made her way along the wall to the torn nest. There were the egg shells but they were empty. She swallowed down the sob and gave a tentative chirp. Cricket fanned her sharp ears and chirped again. A call that their mother used to make when she was trying to find them.

   A single weak chirp was heard behind her. She spun in place and saw two very _very_ young Drauglin babies behind her, huddled together as close as two beings could be. She raced over to them and immediately wrapped them up in arms and wings, grateful that they were alive, but also worried after feeling how cold they were. She was longing for some warmth herself. They must have been hiding in the small alcove all this time. The larger one was the same shade as the rocks and Cricket breathed an earnest and heartfelt thanks for that. The larger one was probably hiding the smaller bluish one behind her two legged body and wide wings.

   Cricket looked behind herself but couldn't stand to see their mother again so she encouraged her two young sisters to follow her into the woods. It was foolish and dangerous but she didn't have too many options. Whatever killed their mother could come back at any moment. The small bluish one was little enough to fit on her back, draped over both sides and she walked slower for the other slightly larger one to keep up. Both were less then half her size and it was going to be tough because she was still a starving kid as well. The one she carried had fins and flippers instead of hands and feet. Her wings weren't meant for flying, more like ribbed fish fins then anything, which confused Cricket to no end. There was no water around here. She was definitely built for the water and so Cricket made it her first priority to find some. Even though the one on her back was little, she seemed fine in the cold, she simply moved weakly and awkwardly. The stronger sister walked on just her hind legs and her forelegs were covered with small spiked feathers, ending with 4 fingered clawed hands. The last finger had webbing to the end that was the same color as the cave, with tiny spines at regular intervals down to the wrist. Some of the spines were cracked open and revealed fluffy down feathers. Her head was all smooth and sharp but her neck was wrinkled from jowls to shoulder. Her strong legs were also smooth after the knee with very thick scales all the way to her 5 toes. She resembled a bird more then anything. _Vulture_ , Cricket's mind supplied from somewhere.

   To keep their minds off of the hardships ahead and tragedy behind, she decided to name them and teach them everything she knew about survival. They were so young... Cricket doubted she could do this but if she didn't look after her sisters, they'd die before sun up. The little blue fish-like one she named Ness and the birdlike sister, Phoenix. The names just came to her. She had no idea from where but her sisters seemed to like them well enough.

   Cricket managed to catch a few rabbits for them and she let them eat them all. Never giving in to instinct to eat them all herself. Her grief at loosing her mate and mother made her sick to her stomach whenever she even thought of food. She ate later when it was plain to see that they wouldn't last long unless she found herself some food. The boost of energy helped and they made good time. Cricket took some time and preened Phoenix's feathers so that her down could provide better warmth for her. Teaching her how to take care of her own body. Cricket also helped Ness out by playing with her in the snow, getting those flippers and fins to 'swim' through the snowbanks when they'd stop for a few minutes. They dozed in a pile inside a thick branched tree that was warmer then the others because it was on a hill. Full view of the sun. They ate their fill of birds from that tree and even a couple of rabbits that zigged instead of zagged. With full bellies, things were looking up.

   Phoenix learned quickly from her teachings and added her own ideas to hunting. She waited outside of a hole in the ground and snapped at the first sign of movement. She was rewarded with a fat fox and as Phoenix tried to kill it, it was able to injure her instead. Cricket reacted immediately to her sister's painful cries and the second she got there she bit the fox in half. Phoenix was writhing on the ground from the deep gash in her leg. Cricket licked the blood from the wound but it just kept coming. She grabbed it in her hand and held on as Phoenix was now jerking back and forth, shrieking at her to let go. One kick from Phoenix’s feet landed square on Cricket's head and she was knocked out from the powerful blow.

   When she finally came to, she found Ness curled up around Phoenix who was shuddering and jerking about. Cricket couldn't help but call out for help, knowing full well that there was none out there. She offered Phoenix the fox to eat but her eyes were unfocused and her mouth gaped wide. Only the small shudders gave away the fact that she was just barely alive. The shivers slowed to the random twitch of muscle. Then, stillness.

   Cricket stared at her last living family member for a long time in the silence. Ness was so tightly curled around Pheonix's body that Cricket wondered if she'd ever let go. She left her there for just a minute before coming back with several branches of evergreen and laid them next to the feathered body. She then laid down next to Ness and over the span of half a day, managed to scoot and nudge Ness agonizingly slowly away from the body and around her own. She laid there with little Ness for a little longer. Hoping that at least Ness makes it out of this wood alive. They _needed_ open water. Cricket needs to get her to the ocean, a lake, or even a creek. _Something_. She had less of a chance at living out here then poor Phoenix did.

   Cricket's throat was still tight when she swallowed down the lump and heaved a steadying breath or two. For Ness. She eased her little sister onto her back again, lifting her wings to make a cradle for her. Ness's flattened tail wrapped around her own and her head rested limply on Cricket's right shoulder. Nose peeking out from close to her wing thumb. She stroked it tenderly and heard the stifled sob. She suppressed her own and kept on moving down the hillsides. If she reached the bottom, there must be water there. She and Ness stopped when she couldn't hold her up anymore, and hunted solo. Ness would just slow her down, and they needed food. She made damned sure that Ness was covered head to toe in evergreen branches and ordered to call for help if she heard anything at all. Finally, she was able to find and take down something bigger then a rabbit. Her first deer was thin from winter but still had enough meat on it to last them for a few days.

   Ness was brought over to the carcass since it was too big for Cricket to haul back. They feasted and slept and recuperated. Spirits lifting a little. Cricket found herself talking about their mother and Kazz. Ness listened eagerly and after Cricket's voice gave out, Ness added what little she remembered. It was a thing that walked on two legs that killed their mother. The word, 'biped' popped into her head and 'quadruped' for her and Ness on counting up their legs. Though, none of Ness's legs were really built for walking upright on land. If it weren't for the shared Drauglin scent from mother, Cricket would have assumed that all of them were adopted.

   Phoenix was born first and Ness was cared for by both her and mother for that short time. She would have had no chance at all by herself. She lacked fangs, horns, and speed. Her hands and feet were clawed but they were so small, they weren't good for much. Cricket's determination doubled when she objectively sized up her youngest sister. Ness will die out here.

   Cricket chirped for Ness to wake up and eat one last huge meal. They managed to get the bulk of the meat eaten and reluctantly left the scraps. Cricket knew they were reaching the edge of the woods. Something from her memory of a large lake just over to the west. It attached to the ocean and Ness would be safe there. Sure enough, their luck had finally changed for the better and the sounds of water running over rocks reached their ears. Cricket found a new burst of speed and galloped over to the thin stream. Ness tumbled off her back and splashed about in the water that only came up to her shoulders. The joyful cries and cheers echoed off trees and cliffs. Thankfully heard only by the local wildlife and nothing more dangerous then a stray house cat.

   Ness half swam, half waddled downstream as Cricket kept on leaping over it from one side to the other. Racing her sister down the pebbled stream. They rested at mid-day, Ness somehow catching no less then 5 fish that they shared. They got back up and kept on going all the way to the edge of the woods where the lake sparkled in the setting sun. Caution kept them from venturing into the field between the woods and the water. Cricket convinced Ness to wait until nightfall to go.

   They'd been traveling all this time, intent of reaching the water, but, she wasn't yet willing to say goodbye.

   The moon was high in the sky and Cricket could see how eager Ness was to be in the vast waters. Instincts almost overpowering the familial bond. Cricket sighed heavily and dropped herself down next to Ness on the bank. 'I'm gonna miss you.' She whispered and Ness nuzzled closer. They stayed like that for a long while before Cricket reluctantly got up and stretched. She saw the sad look in Ness's eyes and said that they will see each other again.

   Ness's eyes went wide and she asked, 'Promise?'

   Cricket's heart lurched at that one word. 'No. It is a fact. Not a promise.' She nodded firmly and made sure Ness was hidden as she crept forward to inspect the area before letting her sister anywhere close to the water. On the other side of the lake there were a few things floating on the water that had yellowish orbs on them. Far enough away to be safe. She took her time coming back to Ness as her sister met her halfway, she scowled for a second at that but then huffed. Ness will have to find courage and bravery in herself from here on out.

   Cricket walked along side Ness as she swam in the deepening creek. Then, waited and watched as Ness swam about in the lake, stretching her limbs and skills to the limit. Proving to her big sister that she can do this. A fish flew out of the water and hit Cricket square on the head and over the sputtering and indignant squawking she made, Cricket heard Ness splash happily about in the water. Ness did a few flips and each one was more impressive then the last. She was made for this. Cricket felt a sense of pride fill her up, knowing that she made this happen. She saved her sister.

   Ness came forward one last time and they nuzzled each others noses before Ness flipped back and around. 'I'll see you later Cricket!' and then just like that, swam away.

   Cricket refused to feel sad at seeing her go. They _will_ meet again. That's not a promise, it's a _fact_.

 

   A full year passed, and Cricket did see Ness a couple of times before something ancient pulled on her body. Slowing her metabolism. Demanding that she goes deep into hibernation because her woods and all the surrounding areas were now devoid of deer and large enough mammals for her to survive. Hiding in the deepest part of the woods, she found a quiet place for her body to rest for as long as it demanded. A cave even deeper then her first one. It was a tight fit to get into it and it was well hidden behind several cliffs and huge trees. They blocked the majority of the cold and elements. It was perfect for the long sleep. She would starve to death if she didn't hibernate. Drauglin's needed each other during their first few months, living like a small pack until they were old or strong enough to make the migration overseas. If they couldn't migrate before their first year, they had to hibernate first. This was engrained in every Drauglin mind and body from birth as firm as base instinct. Migrate or hibernate.

   There were several uninhabited islands that housed previous generations of dragons. Too remote for even the most hardy adventurous humans. Cricket and Ness felt more then knew the location of the islands and intended to take their young there when they were old enough for the journey.

   Cricket woke from her 5 decade strong hibernation to a world that sounded and smelled different. Wild food was plentiful and she wasted no time in killing and eating her fill. She somehow knew that there were no male dragons out there in this part of the world, and her genetic wiring instructed her how to fix the problem. She was terribly lonely and longed for the sounds of her own kind. She tried to find Ness right after her hibernation but the sights of so many things on the water kept her from them. She tried again most nights but still those floating things kept on going by. Ness wouldn't be stupid enough to stay here. The risk of being seen was far too great. It hurt to think that she might not see her little sister again, at least, not until they meet at the islands. Perhaps Ness is already there...

   Maybe she has a litter of her own?

   Cricket spent the next week thinking about what having a family would be like. Mother had said that 3 females and 3 males is how many should be born. Mother once mentioned that her other 2 sons had left the nest before she and Kazz were born. Cricket only had the briefest of moments to think about at how odd that sounded, to make three sets of mates, before that idea was dismissed entirely. None of them were _actually siblings._ It was important that the future mates were unrelated and healthy. They had the Drauglin scent but Cricket could tell that they weren't fully related. It's just the way Drauglin's are. After all, she looked nothing like Phoenix or Ness or Kazz, because they were different creatures before Mother made them Drauglin. Cricket got the impression that having litter mates as real mates was a last desperate effort more then the norm. Cats did it, dogs did it too. Most animals have no problem with inbreeding if there was no other choice. Likewise, if they came across other Drauglins, they would eagerly pair up and mate with them to spread the genetic diversity.

   All of this wasn't so much thought out of course. Cricket just 'knew' things and acted accordingly. She saw how plentiful food was in her forest and knew that it would be a perfect place to raise young. She sought out her old territory, but avoided her old cave. Nothing could make her go back there. She settled for a valley that was filled with cliffs and tall ancient trees. She saw a dirt and rock path going straight through her territory one day and ignored it for now. Lots of things were different, that was just one of them.

   The first biped she saw was a young female, the scent of milk still surrounded her so it must have just had a baby recently. That would be perfect! This biped would be able to birth more offspring when she was reborn again as Drauglin. Cricket's instincts took over again and she let her body do the work. The female biped shrieked and screamed before she put it to sleep and swallowed her whole. She took the utmost care in making sure that she was safe and sound inside of her. Already Cricket could feel the life change within her egg pouch, she nearly forgot that she needed another live animal to swallow to change the first girl into a more diverse offspring. A bird. She thought of Phoenix and decided to honor her memory with making her first offspring a bird Drauglin.

   A biped male came into her territory but he wasn't alone, there were several others with him and she decided none of them felt right. They reeked of deer musk and urine. Things that rolled around in deer piss weren't the kinds of things she wanted as offspring. Deciding instead to go with three girls first. That way, if she didn't get any males, the girls could make their own offspring. There were simply not enough Drauglin out there to risk it. Girls first, then boys.

   The second and third female bipeds were easy enough to catch and the egg laying was simply _exhausting_. She couldn't find a cave for her nest so she had to lay them all next to a little rocky overhang. No predator could break the eggs and she was pretty far into the woods from that loud area to the south to worry about other bipeds. If any came by, she'd simply turn them into more offspring. Who says she had to stick with tradition? Drauglin were nearly _extinct_ , surely the more the merrier right? She decided to go for 6 offspring now, and then try again next year for more.

   For now, with three new souls inside her, she felt happy and satisfied. Now she just had to fatten herself up again and get a lot of food ready for the babies. She was halfway through cooking up a nice young buck when something rustled the leaves to her right.

   Which brings her back to the start of all this mess. All thanks to that tall biped male, Cricket's daughters were all killed before they hatched, and her first and only son was stolen from her. She intended to make the tall male into her son as well, but lost him in the woods. Too grief stricken to track the taller biped down. She could still see his face in her minds eye. The instinct still strong to make him into her second son. She planned on finding another male biped for the third and then try and turn three females for them. All of them must be able to produce good strong young. She missed her hatch mates dearly and did not want to risk the next generation's chances of survival. That's why she had made sure that the first three females were able to produce young. She could smell the hormonal changes in their bodies that signaled their status as mothers. The male brothers she found were also sexually active, her son more then the taller one, and therefore first one she wanted.

   If only her son hadn't wandered off. Cricket feared that her son was killed before he even had a chance to live. Before she decided on a name. Not even nest broke. Without help, without food readily available, he would starve. She had to come to terms that he was most likely dead, but, something told her that he was still alive out there. A feeling. _Hope_ maybe.

   The ones that had captured her, now _forced_ her to turn a different male. Cricket was only half aware of what was happening at the time. Awake just long enough to administer the right gasses and commence the right body functions to shift the surprise living meal into her egg sac instead of her stomach, which was originally where he was headed. Her shock and horror of potentially killing a biped made her turn him. She certainly didn't want to, not like _this_. She didn’t even know or see the biped first. She was only aware of a weight moving in her throat as she was roused from her slumber. She barely had enough time and strength to turn him.

   That was weeks ago. She had been woken up when the time had arrived for the egg to be laid. Afterwords, they barely gave her an hour to inspect it before the huge group of bipeds forced to sleep again. Now, she was only in a doze. She could still hear the going's on around her straight rock wall cave, and knew that her second son was growing strong and fast. He didn't smell right though. Something corrupted him. Cricket was sure it had nothing to do with her. She cared about him because he was another Drauglin, but her instincts were telling her that the second son shouldn't be allowed to live. He was _wrong_. Atrocious. It wasn't his fault the bipeds forced him down her throat, but his soul felt like it was full of hate before that.

   She was left in a doze instead of fully asleep at about the same time they were moving her second son. She could sense the hatred surrounding it when he was brought into her area. Many bipeds made noises and moved things around her, but she couldn't wake up all the way to figure out what was going on. Her eyes refused to open and her senses were too dull. They could have brought in a deer to trample on her head and Cricket wouldn't have felt it.

   One day, they managed to bring her out of her perpetual doze and she finally came nose to nose with her second son. He was big and impressive, nearly identical to her shape because she wasn't given other living animal to add for genetic diversity. His hide was black for the most part, and dark brown on the undersides. Eyes sharp and darting at the same time. He looked nearly full grown. She found herself feeling nervous and on edge about that. How long was she out? And more importantly, why did they wake her up now? He's too old to train, he should have been taught about life as a Drauglin weeks ago. At least the bipeds have been feeding him enough, since she couldn't. It hurt her to feel like he grew up without a mother. Without her love and guidance. This male before her might as well be a dangerous stranger.

   He paced the flat rock cave, seemingly insulted to be near her. She tried to calm his anger, but he seemed to be more aggravated by the chirps and motions. She wished she had a meal for him, present him with a gift as armistice. He probably resents her for her absence growing up. She cooed her apologies and was confused at his reaction. She was met with disgust. He continued his pace around the flat rock cave, his glare at her, the low growl that never stopped. Why all this hostility? She was trying to make it right?

   More bipeds made noises and waved long metal sticks at her boy, shouting things and she snarled back, tail lashing behind her and wings puffing up. She attempted to block her boy from them but was startled to feel him paw at her back. He was trying to pin her down but she was still larger and stronger then him. She whorled her head around to see what was going on and was bewildered to discover that her second son was being forced to _mount_ her. She was too startled to move for a moment then instantly rounded on him. That was so _wrong_ on too many levels to _count_! The ever mounting feeling of anger she felt oozing from him, and the wrath she had for the bipeds for making them do _that_ , drove her into a frenzy. She had enough of this _corruption_ and tried to kill it once and for all. She felt its hatred for everything as if it were a suffocating weight on her chest, it was _evil_. She'd make the death quick at least, going for his jugular or spinal column.

   His black and brown hide slid with the grace of snakes as he attacked back with even more ferocity. The all out death battle stunned everyone there and it took a moment to figure out how to separate two massive predators that were intent on ripping each other to shreds.

   Bipeds cried out and sent pain through both of their bodies with the metal sticks until they laid panting and bleeding. Cricket used up the last of her strength lifting up her head and angling it down, bearing all of her sharp fangs and aiming them down and out, so that when it dropped, it would bite down on his neck with enough force to break it, but several bipeds were able to pull his neck out of her reach. Her fanged mouth fell onto the hard ground with her chin sliding forward and mouth snapping shut. She was lucky she didn't bite her tongue off. The abomination was being half pulled half lifted away from her by many bipeds and metal things that were thrown over. More metal vines littered the area and she felt the pinch of them cinch her mouth shut. A pained grunt escaped her and she breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to gather enough strength to try and open her mouth to try again, but darkness consumed her and she didn’t wake for many days.

 

   “Still think that the dragon soldier idea is viable?” A glare hit the young behavioral scientist square in his face, but he refused to back down. He'd said all along that this was one of the worst ideas they'd come up with for using the dragon for war. He continued on when his partner stayed silent. “The General isn't going to force Eve to change a soldier. Not even a supernatural hunter as skilled as S3 stood a chance against her. And she was still half drugged.”

   The silent partner strode across the huge room and took in the state of Subject 3. Formerly known as Gordon Walker. Even though his size was impressive, his skills at using the new body were lacking. He was practically raised in a test tube. Food and water always had been injected directly into his stomach to ensure he's getting the nutrients for a big body. Steroids helped get his muscles to their current size but since it was unnatural growth, he wasn't used to wielding them in the fight.

   “They'd need to have Eve raise the next one or get Spike back and try again at retraining him.”

   “Or.” the silence broken with a hand absently rubbing his neck.

   “Or what?” Interest piqued.

   “Remember that hunter Joseph Azazel?”

   A disgusted sneer crossed his face, letting the older one know he remembered quite well of the reputation surrounding that butcher.

   “He got back to us about his end of the bargain. He finally decided what he wants from us for giving us that information on how to turn something into a dragon.”

   “Spit it out.”

   “He has a person he wants us to turn into a dragon for him. A replacement for the one we took from him.”

   “Figures.” He went to the corner of the room and left the duty of removing S3 from Eve's cell. “And what's he gonna do if he doesn’t get what he wants?”

   “I don't want to find out. The crazy ones get creative.”

   The two of them left the room and passed by that new girl. Short little thing with long black wavy hair pushing a car with coffee and snacks on it. Megan something. He turned his head to wink at her and her red lipsticked smirk was sent back with a suggestive returning wink. Maybe the new coffee girl isn't as frosty as the others say she was.

 

   Meg felt her stomach churn after flirting with one of those assholes. But, she needed a way in and she couldn't pass their rigorous training to get into the scientific research and development departments. Coffee girl it is. She just needed a way in, not a way up the ladder.

   Eve was laying there, beaten and bleeding. Poor girl. Meanwhile Walker was being pulled and shoved into another holding container to haul his sorry ass back to his own cell. Meg had never met the human version but if he was anything like his dragon persona, she felt no guilt letting him stay here when all is said and done. Eve and Dean felt like they just wanted to live peacefully, Walker felt like pure hatred with wings. Somehow Meg knew that it didn't come from Eve.

   While she was pouring coffee and suggesting snacks, she overheard several conversations eluding to the idea of using someone else as a dragon test dummy. The name Azazel popped up and she had to force herself to keep smiling and serving. She'd heard back from Clarence... she caught herself... heard from _Castiel,_ that Dean reunited with his brother and their friend and were now on the lam out there. Hunted down in the woods. She wished she could help them out but Castiel insisted that she stayed put there in case their escape plan didn't work. Also, to her more importantly, that if her brother showed up that she could smuggle him out before he was hurt.

   The room thinned out now that Walker was taken away and secured and she left until no one else was in the room with Eve. It was freezing cold and dark in there again and she threw on two lab coats to keep warm.

   “Hey there, big girl.” She said, resting a hand to the bars. They were spaced fairly close together but she was small enough she could fit through. Eve made no sign that she was awake and just the labored breathing signaling that she was alive. “We are gonna make this right. I want you to know that.”

   Meg found herself walking closer to the massive black head of the mother dragon and sitting down on the other side of the bars, huddling in on herself to keep warm. “So uh, listen. If they ever bring in someone else into your cage? Asking you to eat them? Could you do me a solid and uh, _not_?” She then huffed a cloud of air and sighed, “Like you had a choice the first time.” She continued after a minute, feeling her fingers and toes get numb. “Dean is fine by the way. I know that you probably hadn't seen him since he was born. He escaped with some help, but he's out there and free right now. He's with his brother and they're gonna turn him back in less then a month. They said they'd do it sooner but something about a solstice and spell work... I don't know. They mentioned you too, they said that if you were human they could turn you back as well. So uh, I sure hope you were because that's what the plan is at the moment. Turn you both back into one of us.” She grinned. “I'd love to get a chance to talk to you after that. So much has changed since you were human. They said that your kind hibernate for about 50 years. So, yeah. Things are different now. We won the war. Mostly. It's debatable if either side one.”

   A low crooning sound came from the cage and Meg was startled into standing up and away from the cage. The black dragon's eyes lifted just a little and found her form standing there in front of them. A rumbling came next as she shifted her neck out a little but couldn't open her mouth very far. She practically whispered a chirrup and Meg could have sworn she saw a smile on those lips before Eve was out again.

   Meg crept closer after a moment. She tentatively entered the cage, feeling no anger or ill feelings coming from the massive monster. As slow as she'd ever moved in her life, she inched her way closer and laid a hand on the top of Eve's nose that was level with her chest. A shy childlike smile graced her red lipsticked lips and she said encouragingly. “Don't give up, we are all gonna make it out of this.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No evil cliffy today, I just had to tell y'all what all is going on simultaneously. (Honestly I started tearing up from this. The part with her sister Phoenix - just hit me square in the feels.)  
>  Next chapter is going to be all about the Tiny Dragon Dean, because of reasons. ;)   
> I will probably put Jody and Donna in more later. Need some familiar faces in the military so they're not all 'bad guys'. Come to think of it I never did name those two helpful women that treated Dean with respect... any ideas who they could be?  
>  (I'm literally asking here, 'cause I have no clue. I do want them to see Dean again later on - figuring out that part later = laziness = I write a bunch of random shit just so future me has plenty to work with - almost nothing is planned ahead! does it show? ie- I actually forgot that Gordon was one of the hunters that was with Azazel's crew when they caught him. Probably put that in later... if I remember! I suck, moving on! )  
> (Drauglin - what the dragons call themselves, is loosely from one of Tolkien's made up languages shoving the words 'wolf' and 'song' together Draugh -wolf luin -song)  
> This extra long chapter was hard to write simply because I was too preoccupied with thinking about tiny dragon Dean antics! and Thanksgiving of course! hope y'all had a great one!


	22. Thunderstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shrinking spell is a success but Dean finds it hard to adapt to this new monumental situation. He and the others are tested and stressed, and more then one reaches their breaking point.

Chapter Twenty:

Thunderstruck

 

 

 

   Bobby recited the words with some austere dignity even as his insides threatened to bolt. He hated every single time he had to do any kind of spell on someone he knew. That goes double for untested spells. It was few and far between but still far too often for someone outside of their line of work. The sight of a massive dragon shrinking before their very eyes is something that no one could be prepared for. The others behind the car didn't so much as breath a word when he started the incantation. Bobby guessed they were worried they'd say something and the spell would change on them. That thought didn’t even occur to him until after it was all said an done. Dean looked like he was sliding back from Bobby as well as forward and down, like he was being sucked into a wormhole but instead of warping time, his body was being compressed and the sight of his adopted boy writhing about inside it nearly made him stop and go to his rescue. At one point he could see Dean panting hard and fast and with each exhale he shrank another foot or so. He put Dean out of his mind because he did NOT want to miss his place in the spell or repeat a word or line. He shifted the book in front of his line of sight of Dean and kept on going with a firm tone of voice.

   All Sam could think was a litany of, 'Please don't screw up', at Bobby and towards Dean, 'Please don’t die from this', as his immense brother started to slide down and away from them. The others next to Sam were less familiar with spells and the supernatural and probably never even met a witch before. Sure they were aware of the supernatural, but seeing a dragon shrink down in a matter of minutes took both of his new friend's breaths away. Castiel looked worried as all hell, and Balthazar was equal parts fascinated and troubled as well. And maybe a little guilt, but that could probably be because Dean might be in pain, and he wouldn't be if it wasn’t for Balthazar bringing their attention to the shrinking spell in the first place. Sam looked away from his shrinking brother to reach around Cas and pat Balth's back reassuringly. Balth just glanced at him for a half second and then stared right back at Dean.

   The last line Bobby delivered was said with a little bit more force then necessary but Sam chalked it up to nerves. If this did end Dean's life, he must have wanted it to end fast and painless. A long drawn out reciting of spells could change the meaning and inflections. Especially when dealing with the old school ones, where proper diction and enunciation were key.

   Bobby may not be a professor or lecturer, but he knew his way around colloquialisms from days of yore and the symphony of rhymes that some spells thrived on. The words chosen as carefully as the order they were in. In English, there are numerous ways of saying the same thing. Thankfully, Bobby studied up and knew what syllables to force and which ones to coax gently from the spell's incantation.

   There was silence around the area and from their position behind the car, Dean was barely visible. Cas was the first to move, worry overtaking any side effects entering the circle might bring. Balth whispered his concerns to Sam about Cas shrinking as well if he entered the circle now. Apparently he was expecting Dean to be able to leave the circle on his own. Dean wasn't moving. Cas must have read his friends mind because his approach was slow and he started talking to Dean, telling him exactly what he was going to do before doing it, and praising him for a job well done. Positive reinforcements and assurances because this can't be easy for his now miniaturized friend.

   The tiny dragon lifted up his head just a little, looking over to the car and as Cas got closer, he could see the little chest rise and fall rapidly. “Dean, it's ok. You are safe here with us. No one is gonna hurt you, Dean. You did good staying put. Everything’s going to be alright. All I'm going to do is check and make sure you are ok. Ok?” and his foot went forward to Dean's side to give himself some stability for going down on the other knee.

   Dean looked absolutely minuscule compared to his former size where each step had once brought tremors to the ground. His exhales were like gusts of wind, his presence was intimidating and overwhelming but now, he was just a small little lizard with wings. Cas noticed that Dean's eyes were now closed and his breathing had evened out. He was sleeping. Probably passed out from the stress on his body all at once.

   Castiel reached out a shaky finger and stroked the back, next to the spines that ran the length of the small body. Then again with a finger on each side of the spines, trailing all the way to the end of the tail as he marveled at the feel of the soft skin. His fingers were too large compared to Dean's scales to detect how hard they were for Dean. They could fill the space between the finger print ridges with room to spare. It gave Dean's skin the illusion of silky smoothness. Like flexible glass. He got down on both knees and settled nearly over top of Dean's prone body. The other three were approaching them as well, leaning forward to get a good look at him.

   “Some space, please.” Cas nearly whispered, the others nodded and backed up a step as Cas very carefully placed a hand on either side of Dean's body. Inching them together until his friend was securely cupped within them, and then lifted off of the dirty ground.

   A residual thrum of leftover magic was fading into the earth from the circle. Balthazar kept on stealing looks all around them, half expecting the spell to start up again but relaxed when that tingling feeling slipped away like watching water being absorbed into dry earth. He saw that most of the lines drawn in the dirt were clawed up by Dean's shrinking fingers and toes and hoped that since it was damaged while the spell was going, that it wasn’t going to adversely effect the results. Surely the witches would account for the victim's actions within the circle. Accounting for some sabotage. If he were stuck in a transmutation circle with a witch intending on harm, he would try and wreck every line in it to stop it. Odd how now, he is hoping that wrecking the circle _did not_ change the spell. What if it hurt Dean though? What if he changed his mind half way thru? What if instead of Dean wanting this, Dean was trying to destroy the lines and sigils on purpose, but still couldn't stop the spell?

   Balth put a hand to his stomach and thanked God that Dean was in good hands the whole time, otherwise this would be a really shitty thing to do to someone. Make them so small and vulnerable. Damn the kid looked so... helpless. Like a baby. Of course, if he didn't know any better, and saw that sharp thing scurrying around in his bedroom back home, he wouldn't think of the spiky dragon as weak and harmless and would be searching for a baseball bat to use on the thing. Balthazar _hates_ rats. And now one of his friends was about the same size as one but looking far more dangerous. 'Wonder what a fight between Dean and a rat would look like...' Balth found himself musing before shutting that right out of his head. He shuddered to think about how Dean would feel seeing a huge hairy beast coming at him. With rabies, fangs, claws, and a bad temper. Dean still thinks he's human, he's not used to having claws and fangs and spikes. He probably wouldn’t know how to use them in a fight with something of equal size. Crap. Someone is gonna have to teach Dean how to fight and use his natural weapons. Might be easier now. He can spin and flip and fight and not destroy the country side. Maybe even learn how to fly again around the living room of that cabin they're heading towards.

   Balthazar decided to bring up his thoughts and ideas with the others once Dean is settled in. For now, it looks like Cassie has got a good idea how to treat him. He looks like a natural, like a father holding up a newborn son. Of course their relationship wont exactly be pg-13 when Dean gets back to normal. That much is certain.

   Castiel tried to steady his hands as he cupped Dean in them, moving his pinky finger to nudge the tail closer to Dean's body. He must only weigh a pound now. If that. Bobby was right, Dean was now about the size of a rat with wings and a long neck and tail. The main body only as long as Castiel's palm. His tail just an inch longer then a finger along with his neck and head. If they laid him out, stretched, tip of tail to tip of nose, Cas thinks that Dean would be just under a foot long, and maybe 6 inches tall. He'd have to slate his scientific curiosity when they get him to safety and after he's asked permission.

   Once Cas had him in his hands, he brought him closer to his stomach for stability and walked very slowly and carefully towards the Impala. Sam raced ahead and pulled out a warm t-shirt from Sam's duffel and made a little nest with it on the hood of the car. Somewhere where they could all take a clearer look. They'd never really seen what Dean looks like all grown up from above. The view was almost always what his chest and underside of his body looked like. Dean's camouflage is perfect now, he would be able to blend in seamlessly if he laid down on an old fallen log. The underside of him was tan and the freckles were more obvious so it resembled a tree without bark. Of course, the main problem they had before, with Dean hiding in the woods, was finding a place _big enough_ for an adult dragon. Now, a few dead leaves could cover him up completely.

   Cas brought his hands over the shirt and lowered them down slowly and parted them with the care that one would show a sleeping baby bird. Once Dean was deposited onto the shirt, they saw him actually snuggle in while he slept. The softest of rumbling purrs was heard if they got their heads close enough, and a collective, 'awwww' went up in the group of “manly” men.

   Sam reached forward and gently nudged one of Dean's wings from his body. Every single action slow and calculated because they did not want to injure him or even wake him up, but really, when else is Sam gonna have a chance to inspect the injuries to Dean's wing without his older brother being a brat about it. He pinched the long toothpick thin index finger of Dean's left wing first and eased it open, marveling how close it looked to a bat's wing. The tears in the membrane were now nearly microscopic, but still there. At least the vast majority of the metal that coated Dean's hide was now laying about on the ground. All of them popping off as Dean's scales underneath them shrunk away from the metal. Not all of it was gone, some went along for the ride and Sam frowned at that. They wouldn't dare try removing them now. Even tweezers could rupture Dean's skin and do more damage then good. They'd just have to wait for Dean to grow again to pull the few remaining metal spots off.

   Sam asked Bobby to grab the 'special' med kit and with a little help, he smeared one of their medicinal salves over all of Dean's injured wings. Living and breathing the supernatural lifestyle had its benefits too, the salve was from a gypsy that owed them one for getting rid of a bad spirit. It did the job twice as fast as any antibacterial, but it was in short supply. Saved for emergencies. Dean was so small, that they could use up some of it on him without making a dent in the jar. That should help the wings heal faster. He was about to add some band aids to them but stopped. That would be uncomfortable for Dean. Feeling like a flattened couch pillow with a foot wide yard of tape attached to each side. He could try gauze...

   He folded up Dean's wings again, remembering the exact motions his brother uses to do so, so that it's as comfortable and natural as possible. Having once or twice been folded up _in_ those wings, gave him intimate knowledge on which finger went where and when. It was not as easy as closing human fingers, there was a certain order to it all. When Dean's human side came forward, he was obviously unused to having wings at all, and so they weren't folded up as well as his dragon side had them. They drooped to his sides, sometimes even dragging on the ground until a rock or log bumped them, reminding Dean to lift them up and out of the way for just a few minutes before getting lazy again and dragging them around like a blanket draped over his back. Sam could help Dean keep them out of the way so no one accidentally steps on them. Wait. Shit. There's another thing to worry about.

   Sam paused his actions at the medical kit for a second before shaking his head and going back to the task at hand. Focus on this, then the next one. KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid. Dean told him that once and Sam found himself repeating it a lot lately. It helped him get things done then trying to do too much or worry about too much at at the same time.

   The others were watching Sam work with a delicate touch, unrolling their smallest spool of gauze in a long strip. Then using the medical scissors in the case to cut it lengthwise because it was currently half as wide as Dean's wings. Like trying to wrap them up with a strip as wide as a towel. Too wide for the crisscrossing he needed to do. He made sure the special salve still coated the top and bottom of the paper thin membrane, before he bound Dean's left wing first and then his right. Making sure to just tuck the ends into the underside of Dean's wings so if his brother wanted them off, he could easily remove them. But, so long as he was sleeping, this should help heal them faster. Some of the salve seeped thru but that's alright, it just means that it will act like a waterproof barrier for the thin gauze bandage. With that done, Sam placed Dean's wings back to his sides and Dean grumbled a little in his sleep. The wings twitched a little until he found a good spot to lay the two bundles. Now, they resembled white folded bird wings. Sam gingerly cradled up Dean's head between three fingers and saw no more injuries to his neck or head. Dean was a little dirty is all and Sam gave in quickly to Dean's sleeping whines and put his head back close to his body, wrapped up wing tucking over it, he sighed heavily before settling again. A few deep murmurs were heard from under the wing and that got a soft chuckle.

   Balthazar brought up something that he was just dying to know. “Why doesn't his voice sound all squeaky?” That got three sets of eyes on him and he shrugged at them all. “It's a valid question.” He defended.

   Cas hovered a hand close to Dean's body to help keep him warm. Dean sought it out and started to nuzzle it, before scooting over and plopping down right into the curve of Cas's palm. That brought out a surprised, 'Oh!' before he easily resigned himself to the job of dragon heater again. “Balth? I think it's because all of him shrunk, if it were just his vocal chords, they may have been pitched higher, but, all of his speaking elements are still proportional to his size.”

   Balthazar actually pouted. “It would have been funny as hell to hear him try and growl at us.”

   Cas looked at him critically, trying to figure out if he merely suggested Dean shrink to hear a high pitched squeak like a mouse. Cas wouldn't put it past him... it may not be the sole reason but it probably helped. “Dean still chirps sometimes when he's happy, he might attract some birds to himself when he does. We shall have to warn him about large predators that can attack him, even if we are standing right next to him.”

   Balth piped up, “I hear ya, Cassie, I saw that video too of an owl taking off with some poor kids pet rat. People were standing all around it and then _bam_ , giant bird flew by and snatched it from the top of the cage.”

   All of them instantly looked up to the trees and sky, suddenly hyper aware of the dangers to their dragon friend. As if an owl would take that very opportunity to make off with him.

   “I'm gonna take him inside.” Cas stated and the others wouldn’t fight him on that idea.

   He settled into the front passenger seat since that door was already open and the others hovered over him. After a moment, Sam lightly tapped Dean on the nose and said, “Behave yourself, Dean.” before walking away to clear up the spell circle and gather up the huge amount of fallen metal shards and plates. Balth helped out too, and Bobby gathered up the rest of their things and supplies into the trunk of the car. They couldn't haul away the metal, so they piled it up and threw some branches and dirt over it. Sam hated littering, but his brother comes first. They don't have time to make a trip to the scrap yard.

   “Sam?” Bobby started, “I think you should drive, if Dean wakes up before we get to a motel or something, he's gonna need to see you the second those eyes open up.”

   Cas nodded, moving to give Dean over to Sam but Sam stilled his hands. “It's ok, Castiel, I trust you with him. I don’t think he'll like anyone else driving his car 'cept for me and Bobby. Bobby was driving for all day yesterday, I think he could use a break.”

   “Thought right!” Bobby called over from the other side of the clearing.

   Castiel nodded his understanding and settled into the passenger side of the bench seat. His hand cupped around Dean's body again and the little dragon started purring. Castiel was happy to give him some warmth and brought the little bundle of barbs closer to his belly. He was hyper aware of all of the sharp ends, not wanting to find out what a thrashing porcupine feels like having a nightmare, but also wanting to be close and comforting.

   “So I was thinking.” Cas started once everyone was back in and settled into the Impala. He waited a moment for the others to to show they were paying attention. Sam looked down at Cas's lap to his brother, checking on him for the 20th time since they started driving 5 minutes ago. “It seems as though that spell that allows us to communicate with animals isn't so much on the animal as it is on the people trying to talk to it.”

   The others considered that and found no flaw in the statement. Cas continued. “I don't think that Dean would be in any harm if we did the spell to talk to him. I wanted to get your take on it.” he looked over to Sam and Bobby then Balthazar.

   “Makes sense.” Sam said after a minute, making sure that no one was on their tail once they pulled onto a paved road. “Bobby, you bought the ingredients while you were in town right?”

   “Yeah, enough to do it twice over.” Bobby said, leaning forward to also look down to Dean.

   “So.” Balthazar started, “Which one of us wants to converse with the carnivore?”

   “I'm fine in my own head, thank you very much.” Bobby stated, “I'll help put it together but it's between you three to decide. Someone's gotta have a level head in this group.”

   Balthazar hadn't considered that and opted out after that. “Looks like it's you two.” He patted Cas and Sam on the shoulders.

   Sam made sure the road was still empty before looking over to Castiel's eyes to see if he was ok with that decision. Sam practically lived in Dean's head when they were both human so this wouldn't be a big stretch. Growing up like they did demanded that they thought on the same wavelength because verbal communication could be dangerous in a hunt. Still. Sometimes, Sam wasn’t sure what was going through Dean's head. This should be interesting. “I'm game.” Sam stated and nodded to Cas. “Dean was the one that took it during our old hunt. He complained a little but nothing about if it was painful or not. Mostly that it was weird hearing a dog's thoughts. He acted a little funny, but, this version of Dean is more human then animal so... I think it will be less weird.”

   Cas nodded to himself. He didn't want to let on to the others how much he longed to hear and know what was going through Dean's head. To know for sure what he was trying to say or what he thought about when he tried speaking to them. It seemed as though he had an inner monologue going on and only used sign language to convey the strongest or pertinent thoughts and ideas. The bare minimum of what needed to be said. Cas blamed himself for that. Dean had a talent for speaking in sign language quickly but Cas only just got the hang of it, no where near professional level. Since Dean had to slow down and keep to the important stuff, Cas knew that he was missing out on the rest of _Dean_.

   Cas nodded more firmly and looked back to the others. “I'll do it.” He stated and prayed they wouldn't detect that he was as hopeful for this to work almost as much as he hoped they'd all make it out of this. He tried to sound like this was all just a means to communicate faster, but really, who could deny that he wanted to know what Dean thought and felt. A small part of Cas added, 'about me.'

   “Well that's settled. Since Dean was the one that suggested it, I know that he's fine with it.” Bobby gave a look to Cas, trying to figure out if Dean meant more then one person or just Sam. And then if Cas would have been Dean's second choice or not. Bobby shrugged and said, “I figure we could do it sooner the better. He's out like a light and when he wakes up, he's probably going to be freaking out. It would be nice to know what his immediate fears are and what he says when he realizes just how tiny he is. That's going to be pretty tough to handle. You two are going to have to calm him down, talk to him, because our Dean apparently doesn't like to use sign language as much as uh, 'Dragon Dean'.” Bobby said using finger quotes.

   Balthazar agreed, when they first met the human side, it appeared to be that Dean forgot how to use sign language. Preferring to talk to them in his own tongue, even though it was obvious that Dean didn’t even know why he sounded like a dragon while saying whatever he was saying. He was damned curious what that whole thing was when they first brought over the mirror to the cage, to show Dean what he looked like. Obviously a lot of stuff was going through his head.

   Sam found a shady spot to pull the Impala over so they could preform the minor spell work. He was grateful that Dean fixed the door behind his seat before they shrunk him because it would be a bitch to try and use the other three doors all the time. Dean tried to fix more of the damage but ended up just scratching Baby up so he stopped and pouted. At least she still ran with as much as they put her through. Sam could tell that Dean was just dying to get her into Bobby's workshop and fix every last thing on her exterior. Sam didn't even want to mention the interior damage, Dean will see that soon enough in high def Imax quality.

   Cas gently gathered his charge up in both hands, still wrapped up in the rumpled shirt, and brought him over to the others who were at the trunk. Sam and Bobby set it up and Balth stood nearby, looking around for interlopers to their group. Sam had reluctantly given Balthazar a pistol since it was obvious that every member of their team needed to have some kind of means of defense. Balthazar, likewise, was reluctant to accept the pistol. He wasn't keen on fighting and guns made him nervous. He accepted it but on the grounds to himself, that it was for protection only so that made it ok. He left it in its holster as he circled around the car, being lookout and trying to see how the spell is prepared and administered at the same time.

   “Ok, that's done.” Sam mumbled and then looked over to Cas then down to his hands. “Only thing we need now is a piece of his body to consume with this mixture. It ties the spell to the one we want to hear.”

   Cas frowned at that. Dean was so small, he couldn't see them removing anything from him without hurting the little guy.

   Sam walked over and lifted up part of the shirt that was covering Dean's sleeping form. “Bobby, we still got those nail clippers?” Sam gave Cas a complicated look, generally one of reluctant acceptance. Bobby handed them over and Cas recoiled his little friend from the tall hunter. Pressing the little body closer to his own. Sam scrunched up his eyebrows at the movement but understood a second later. “It's ok, he wont feel a thing and this will actually help us out later. I'm going to sheer off a little of that spike that's hiding the tracking chip. Millimeters at a time. You can trust me. I wouldn't do anything to Dean that would hurt him.”

   Cas frowned at himself. Of course Sam would be careful with Dean. He is his _brother._ And it will help them out later, having to saw through a full spike is gonna be a bitch when they go to remove it. Dean was brought over to the hood of the car and several high beam flashlights were brought over and a magnifying glass. Cas held the main part of Dean's small body still between his hands. The wrapped wings being tucked in, tail and neck stretched out to straighten the spine. Bobby secured Dean's head in one gentle but firm hand and the tail in the other. They made sure that he wouldn’t move a micro millimeter during the trim. All the precaution made Sam sweat a little. One wrong move and Dean's paralyzed. Maybe even for life after they get him back to normal.

   Sam positioned the lights over the spike and trimmed it back, collecting the shavings into a separate cup. Just like he promised, it was done slowly and carefully until only two millimeters were left of the spike. An oval platform that had a slightly discolored center where the original new spike was built upon. Once they got past the outer layer, it looked more like tree rings. Sam hovered the clippers over the other spikes next, looking up to Bobby and Cas. “Should I trim these too? Would make it easier to hold him, and less like holding a pin cushion.”

   Cas shook his head firmly, “I'd rather be poked a dozen times then to limit his ability to defend himself in this giant world. I wont let anything happen to him, but if he somehow is separated from us, he is vulnerable. If he retains his humanity, then he wont know how to use the body's defenses against his opponents.” Cas looked up to Sam, “How often do you attack monsters by biting them?”

   Sam nodded, a huff of a laugh escaping him. “Not often. Ok. We leave the rest and when he wakes up, we can teach him how to fight.”

   Bobby chuckled and let go of Dean's head and tail, Cas doing the same with the body. “Recon' I can get a mouse for him to practice with.” he said, moving his finger and thumb out to a few inches and then putting it next to Dean's body for comparison. “Be like us fighting a big dog.”

   “Start him off with a ladybug.” Balthazar piped up from his patrol.

   Cas rolled his eyes and wrapped Dean up in the t-shirt again. Besides a little stuttered snore escaping him, Dean didn't show any sign of waking up. Cas pulled the little bundle closer to his stomach for stability and got back into the front seat of the car. Sam finished up the potion, recited the spell and a small cloud of purple smoke wafted up. Cas looked up when a coffee mug was thrust into his face.

   “Drink it up quickly, it looses potency over time.” Sam said and guzzled down his own mug while standing next to the car. He immediately dropped the mug and clutched his stomach. He got to his hands and knees on the ground with Bobby and Balthazar hovering nearby. “I'm fine! Fine. It's just... ughhh... fuckin' awful is what it is.” He spat into the grass and a wisp of purple rose into the air. Sam cursed himself. He hoped that the spell didn't need every last drop for it to work. He looked to Cas sitting there in the seat, now somewhat horrified at what's to come. “Better put him down first and don't do what I just did. Don't loose a drop of it. If it doesn't work for me, you're our last hope until we can get more ingredients.”

   “I'm not driving back into that town for more. Never know who might be monitoring the towns and cities.” Bobby stated. Firm gaze on Cas sitting there with a dragon in one hand and mug of purple slop in the other. Bobby reached for Dean and Cas let him go. Dean shifted in his sleep, seemingly unaffected by the spell and events around him. “Damn son, look how little you are.” he mumbled to Dean as he cupped the tiny body and brought him up closer to see the inch long face. A careful finger bopped Dean's nose and he sleepily grunted at that. “Well, time's wasting, drink up.” He gestured to Cas with the brim of his ball cap.

   Cas brought it to his lips and grimaced. Just as he was about to drink, Sam advised, “Plug your nose first and don't think about it.” Cas nodded his thanks and chugged it like he'd seen Balth do at the bars. The sensation of the goop sliding down his throat was sickening. Like vomiting backwards. He cursed himself for thinking that as he tried very hard to keep it from being a reality. Hands going to his stomach, he panted hard. Trying to will away the nausea. Sam's voice came from his right, “That's it, just breath. You did better then I did.”

   Once he got his breath back he croaked out, “Years of dare drinking with that fool.” And jabbed a thumb to Balth who chuckled.

   Balth made another circle around the Impala, nothing to see out her anyway, and asked, “So, what is dragonheart thinking about right now?”

   Sam and Cas looked to the bundle of scales in Bobby's hands and both narrowed their eyes and leaned forward slightly. Sam shrugged, Cas noted, “This is so odd... I'm getting... images? Feelings. I think he's dreaming of the statue of liberty. It's getting a little stronger.” he put his hand to his stomach as the potion swirled around in his gut. He could feel it tingle very slightly before it was gone.

   Sam frowned at that. Maybe it didn’t work for him. Crap.

   Cas saw Sam's shoulders slump, “It will probably work for you when he's awake.” he suggested hopefully. “If not, I'm fully ok with letting you all know everything he says. And what he thinks if I think it's important. Oh... he's now dreaming about uh... oh _no_. Shit... Bobby, hand him over.” he said somewhat urgently, getting up to his feet and going to Bobby. The old hunter handed Dean over to Castiel's waiting hands and he flipped him around and removed the shirt sleeve that wrapped itself around Dean's legs too tightly. As an explanation, Cas said to the others, “He dreamed he was being tied down to a table. He was worried he was going to be, umm, hurt. By Alistair.” He nearly whispered at the end. “I know what Alistair looks like now.” Cas's face was twisted in disgust. He saw Dean twitch about and ran a soothing finger under Dean's chin, rubbing along the bridge of his nose as he whispered, “It's ok, you're safe now. Alistair is gone. You're with family now.”

   The others were tense and sad, Dean was having a nightmare about being tortured. Outwardly, he barely showed any signs at all, but that's only because the rest of him was hidden from view. Wings were twitching, tense and flexing, tail thrashing now that it was free, and his eyebrow ridges were knitting together in worry.

   The tiny body relaxed the more Cas stroked along his nose and neck, and whispered reassurances that he was safe and Alistair was far away. The others relaxed when Cas looked back up at them. Sam had a hand to his forehead and said, “I felt a little of that. Not really images like you did, like, feelings. But just the strong ones.” He joined in with stroking Dean's back with a feather light touch. “I sure hope you are right and I can hear his thoughts when he's awake.”

   Cas nodded and looked around himself again. “We better get moving.”

   Bobby took the wheel next, since it was still unpredictable what could happen to the two of them that were connected to a dragon. Sam flashed back to how Dean acted like a dog when he was 'mind melded' with one. If Dean isn't either human, or the more familiar hybrid, then they might start acting like the full blown dragon if that's who wakes up in the body. 'Dragon is a dick.' Dean said earlier, and Sam wondered how right he was. When he and Cas were in the woods with the full dragon, it was more annoyed then angry and then turned protective of them. Would it still see Sam and Cas tentative friends? In any case, it was wise to let the others doing the heavy lifting until Dean wakes up and they figure out everything dealing with the mind link.

   Cas and Sam were now in the backseat while Balthazar rode shotgun with a shotgun now. He was against it but relented yet again, mumbling something about how he's going to have an arsenal larger then the trunk's before this trip is done.

   Cas was very quiet, tuned into 'Dean radio'. To everyone else, it looked like he was spacing out while stroking Dean's back, but to him, he was slowly starting to catch clearer glimpses of what Dean was dreaming about. The hazy sights and sounds started to resolve around him, solidifying as if he were the one sleeping. He looked down at himself to see that he was suddenly wearing his black suit, blue tie, and trench coat. The same thing he was wearing when he'd first met Dean. All around him were tall trees surrounding a lake in front of him. He walked closer to it and saw the back of some sandy blond man sitting in a fold out chair at the end of a short dock. Castiel looked around and saw no one else at all. He wondered if that guy was significant to Dean in some way. Why was Dean dreaming about him? It wasn't Bobby or Sam, nor anyone else he recognized at first, but then again, he was just looking at the man's back.

   A fishing pole was then lifted in front of the guy, and angled out to the man's side as he prepared to cast off another line. Cas ducked on instinct as the hook at the end of the pole nearly snagged him. The guy tossed the line out and sighed contentedly. Cas felt like he was intruding on the peaceful scene but when he turned to go he saw the man snap out of his daze and twist rapidly around in his seat, instantly on edge.

   The man's face was stern, hard, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, promising violence if Cas stepped one foot closer. Cas raised up his hands and said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude, I just uh, found myself here. I think I'm lost.

   “Cas?” the man asked and the hard expression fell to one of confusion. “Cas what are you doing here?” He then looked down at his hand at the fishing pole and dropped it to his side. “I was just, uh. I thought I was sleeping. Sorry... I don't...” he stumbled over his words, looking more and more baffled.

   Castiel took a few steps closer. He'd only seen photographs, but this was undeniably Dean. It startled Cas as well as Dean, who stood up from the end of the dock, casting a glance at his fishing pole that was now slowly sliding into the water. “Catch it!” Cas warned and Dean knelt down and grabbed the pole as instructed and reeled it in. At some point he lost the fish because it came back with just a hook. He sighed, frustrated a little and shrugged. “Don't know why I try, I never do catch anything.” He chuckled a little and added, “It's just, peaceful. Ya know? Not being expected to catch anything, just. Cast it out, and hope. Lost so much of it... I can still hope for a fish.” Dean said out loud, whether or not it was for his benefits or Dean's, Dean sat down again. “You're a first though. All my dreams, never had company with such beautiful blue eyes before. Guess that just goes to show right? Finally get you all to myself and we're in a field next to a lake and you're imaginary. So many things I wanted to say to you... this... bond or whatever. It's profound. Like, I feel connected to you, but I know it's fuckin ridiculous to think _that_ could ever happen.” Dean never did look at him while he spoke. “Nice to get it out in the open, even if you aren't the real you.” He sighed and lifted up the pole again, baited the hook and cast it out again. “Well, come on over here fake Cas, I'll show you how to _not_ catch a fish.”

   “Dean.”

   Dean paused in reeling the hook back in. He squinted his gaze over his shoulder. “No. That's not right. You're supposed to come over here and watch me fish and stand and squint at me.” He started, turning a little in his seat. “You're not supposed to look at me all concerned like that. This is the _peaceful dream_. Where I go to relax and not think about things.”

   Cas tilted his head and squinted.

   Dean huffed a laugh, so like the other one that his dragon body does that it made Cas gasp.

   “Well, you got half of the act right. But the rest... no.” Dean shook his finger a little. “You're not supposed to do that.”

   “Do what?” Cas breathed. His feelings were going haywire. Here was what Dean looked like, sounded like and acted like when he's in his own head and human. How much of this is like the Dean he shows others?

   “That! You're not supposed to look at me all heart eyes. I don't get to have you. Not here, and certainly not,” His hand waved in the air as if he was waving at the real world beyond the puffy clouds. “Out there. No. All you see out there is a monster. A freak. All you're gonna see is that thing I became.” Dean got up but didn't move closer. He made a fist and said, “I don't _get_ to have what I want. I don't get to have you looking at me like you care about me. Beyond feeling sorry for my ass for being stupid enough to go up against a dragon solo. I don't deserve your...” he left it at that and firmed his jaw. “No. you're not real, and this is my relax dream. So go fuck off.” he stated and angrily sat back into his chair again. Lifting up the pole and casting it out far into the lake as it it offended him.

   “ _Dean_...” Cas started, sounding heartbroken even to his own ears.

   “I SAID FUCK OFF!”

 

   Cas jolted awake and jostled the small bundle in his lap. The miniature dragon shifted in his sleep and huffed. Cas immediately tensed and looked down at Dean. His small friend settled into deep sleep once again, but Cas didn't see anymore of his dreamscape.

   “What was that all about?” Balthazar asked from the front seat.

   “What?” Castiel was still very disoriented from going from a bright beautiful fishing hole to a dingy gray and lime green gas station. He felt the car shift as Sam got back into his side of the car, handing over a bag of something hot and greasy to Balthazar and then one put in-between them for Cas.

   “Didn't know what you liked so I got you a few things. You can trade with me if you're more of a vegetarian.” Sam grinned and showed Cas his big salad. “I got Dean a few hamburgers too. Figured he would like to be full for once. It would be easier for us to fatten him up when he's like this. He's just too thin.” Sam said while looking for the plastic forks in the bag of hot food. He looked up when he didn’t get a verbal response. Glancing between the two. “hmm? I miss something?”

   Balthazar unwrapped his burger and said, “Ask sleeping beauty here.”

   At the twin confused looks in the back seat he elaborated. “Cassie, you were talking in your sleep, well, you just said 'Dean' a couple of times but it sounded like you were sad. What were you dreaming about?”

   Castiel lifted Dean up to his face to look into the tiny face of his friend. Dean's sharp teeth and jaw clenched a few times and his soft rumblings probably would have shaken the car if he was his proper size. “Dean was uh, at this fishing spot on a lake. I was there too, uh... we said a few things, well, he led the conversation. Said I wasn't real, and then asked me to leave.” Cas knew that was putting it lightly but the didn't need to know. This was not what he considered important information. “It's nothing.”

   “So you heard him in your head? Or when you say he spoke, was it like that growling or in English?” Sam asked, clearly trying to prepare himself for when he gets to speak to Dean.

   “In the dream, he was human and spoke English. I can only assume it's what he sounds like when he's human.” Cas breathed, “I've never heard him before.”

   The other two looked at each other and understood how hard that must be for him. It was fairly clear that the hybrid dragon Dean had a thing with Cas, but the human side might not. Especially since Cas had said that Dean asked him to leave.

   Cas was hesitant to touch Dean's skin again, placing him back onto the shirt and holding onto him that way. His voice got a little watery and he handed Dean over to Sam who fumbled to secure him in time. “I can't. I gotta...” Cas said and exited the car as fast as he could and went to the rear of the gas station.

   Bobby looked up to see him go and called over, “Restroom entrance is inside this one.” When it was apparent that Cas wasn't going to heed his advice he finished up filling the tank and leaned into Sam's side, “What's going on with him?”

   “Wish I knew.” Sam said, motioning to Dean still sleeping somewhat fitfully in the shirt nest to show Bobby that he has Dean now. An emotional wave of protection came over him at the thought of Dean's life being literally in his hands.

   “Might sound crazy, but I think that wasn't an ordinary dream. I think that spell was working on them. Cassie was probably watching everything that Dean was dreaming.”

   “Oh.” Sam said, “I can't.” he felt the need to inform. “Wish I could though.” That got their attention. “So I could tell Dean off for making Cas feel like shit.” he clenched his jaw. “Dean is such a coward sometimes. Even to his own feelings. I'm guessing that he said something to Cas and he took it to heart. Idiots. Both of them. Dean never did tell me outright that he was bi. I figured it out on my own. We both knew that dad would have disowned him if he found out so I kept his secret, and he kept on refusing the facts.”

   “Dean isn’t an idiot.” Balthazar said and wanted to glare at the others. “Coming out is hard. Made even harder by... strict parents. He probably kept it to himself to protect himself. As well as you.” he shook a french fry at Sam's face. “If he got kicked out of the house, who was gonna look after you?” that got a look from both hunters. “I got the impression from Dean that he used to take care of you more then your old man. Am I right? So if Dean was gone, you'd be alone.”

   Bobby agreed with him. He also agreed with Sam. In a perfect world, no one would care what your sexuality is and accept you for who you are, but for those that don't want to accept it, they pose the most danger to anyone that's different.

   Meanwhile, Castiel cursed himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. Usually he can make himself be calm and collected. Rational. Reliable. But when it comes to Dean, and Balth, and his family. All of his strong leadership facade comes crashing down to bury him. He can't hold up the mask for too long so he had to retreat and regroup.

   A trucker's dog ran by him, trailing a leash, it stopped and whined at him for food, or attention, or something. He heard rapid footfalls following the dog and reached down to snag the leash. Bringing the yapping pup around the side of the station towards the calling owner. “He's cute.” He mumbled to the apparent red faced owner. A big guy with a bald head and long beard panted at him. The guy looked utterly relieved if a little winded and grinned down at the Cocker Spaniel puppy.

   In a voice even deeper then Castiel's, the man said, “She. And her name is Teacup.” The trucker shot a hand out and smiled his appreciation, “Thank you, Sir. Name's Lester.”

   Castiel shook his hand and then handed over the end of the leash, “Castiel.” he said and wiped his face again, making sure the tears had stopped. At the confused look on Lester’s face he explained, “Allergies.” And nodded to the dog.

   “Oh! Sorry Cassttee... Caskee.”

   “Castiel.” he corrected and then, “No problem. She's adorable. Have a good day.” And gave a weak smile. He started to walk back to the front of the station again when a huge hand laid on his shoulder, stilling him.

   “None of my business, but, are you alright?” Lester said with Teacup now under one arm and licking at his fingers.

   Castiel laughed humorlessly, not even caring about who knew now, “Boyfriend troubles.” he stated. Giving a daring look at the man's face. Fully expecting a snarl or some kind of reproach as a response from the trucker. A lifetime of hiding who he was, and now he didn’t give a shit. Let the jeers come.

   Lester just patted his shoulder. “He'll come around,” and grinned. At seeing the puzzled expression on the trucker's face he laughed and said, “What? Don't be prejudice, Castiel. Trucker's aren't like that. Have a blessed day.” And made Teacup wave goodbye too. Over his shoulder he said something that apparently just occurred to him, “And I'm not gay.”

   Castiel blinked a couple of times. He chastised himself for immediately jumping to that conclusion for a guy that carries around a female Cocker Spaniel puppy named Teacup. Maybe it's more then just straight people that are prejudice.

   He found himself already halfway back to the Impala before he knew what he was doing. The brief interaction enough to distract him from the torrent of feelings. Now he was just... contemplative. Dean's human side thinks he doesn't deserve to get what he wants? And then immediately told Cas to leave. Castiel had gotten proof that Dean wants him. That they have a profound bond, according to Dean. But thinks that he can't have him because of some notion of Dean's that says that Cas only feels pity and not love for him. Well that's one thing that they are going to work out. Pretty soon, Dean's gonna wake up and they can have a proper discussion about this. About their feelings for one another.

   Bobby finished up his sandwich in the driver's seat while Balthazar was now missing. His food was still here so he was probably in the bathroom. Sam was trying to eat his salad over Dean's sleeping form. Cas's fingers itched to take Dean back for a cuddle but Dean might not want that. So, Cas opened up the take out bag and ate his own burger, leaving the other two for Dean, but stealing the veggies from the insides. Dean can't eat them anyhow and it looked like Balth made off with his share of fries.

   Even after that, he was still hungry so he ate Dean's hamburger buns as well. The meat looked like it was equal to Dean's whole body and he wrapped them up in several napkins to absorb the sloppy condiments and grease. His system might be too sensitive for the sauce and oils. He then wrapped it up in the paper bag and Bobby put it close to the window heater to keep it warm.

   “Hey Bobby, I think he might be waking up. We gotta get out of here or else someone might see him.” Sam said lowly and looked towards the gas station for Balth to suddenly appear.

   Cas took the hint and texted him to hurry up. Balth appeared holding up a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and a small box of cigars. “Your Rufus friend might be more amenable to having extra guests if we bring gifts.” he explained and handed the cigars to Castiel.

   Bobby pulled out of the gas station and stated, “He'll be _amenable_ to not getting his ass kicked for leaving you two out in the cold. He owes me.” and then looked behind the seat at Sam for a moment. He turned on Dean's mix tape again and had the volume up just loud enough for Dean to hear it when he wakes up.

   “Good idea.” Sam said and felt Dean relax a little. The music might help the right version of their dragon to come out. They thought right. But even so, better safe, “Hey, hey, roll your windows up guys.”

 

   Dean felt his bed vibrating underneath him. Man, he must have slipped off asleep again with the magic fingers going. Must be a nice hotel for it to still be going this long. Then the bed shifted up a little and that startled him. He shot his head up and his sight was still blurry and head fuzzy from sleep. Images and colors swirling around himself. 'Holy shit I got up too fast.' he mumbled and dipped his head down again. 'Sammy?'

   “ **I'm here.** ” the vocalic thunder of God in Sammy's voice rumbled all around him. He ducked down and looked fearfully up and around. Masses of colors all shifted around and coalesced into huge blurs. The deafening rumbles of 'Thunderstruck' were now vibrating all over the place. It relaxed him for only a second before he realized he could practically feel every chord in the guitar solo flowing through his whole body like he wasn't even there.

   'What the hell is this? Where am I?'

   “ **You're safe Dean. It's ok. Don't uh, don't freak out.** ” God, or Sammy yelled. Said?

   'Sammy, I can't see you. Tell me what's going on, and where are we, and why the hell you're shouting!'

   “ **I'm not shouting Dean... uh, what do you remember?** ” Sam asked but with a lower voice, somewhat quieter but still rumbling the very air around him.

   It was hard to focus on anything other then how his bed keeps moving after every sentence, he dug his fingers in and felt coarse fabric. He closed his eyes to block out the dizzying sights. Too much movement, too many things demanding his attention. His senses were going into overdrive. He could smell the bed, like Sam does if they couldn't find a shower in the woods. Then he finally recognized the rumbling sounds of the Impala, so that meant that they were driving somewhere. But he could never lay down like this in the Impala. All stretched out. Two things at his sides twitched and he jerked his eyes open at that. Looking over his shoulder at a pair of white oval shapes that he felt himself moving. A long thing behind him curled up closer when he thought about it moving and then the fact that he could look down at his body from several feet above it.

   'I... it's coming back to me...' Dean tried telling Sam but then heard the growls and it was falling into place faster then he could fall off his 'bed'. The dragon. 'Fucking fucking shit mother _fucking fucker_!'

   The deafening boom of Cas sounding startled nearly sent him into hysteria.

   “ **Apologies Dean, I am sorry.** ” Then Cas cleared his throat that sounded more like thunder and a pile of gravel making love. “ **Are you alright?** ”

   Dean growled over to where he heard Godstiel shouting as quietly as he could. 'No! Of course I'm not alright! Cas. Tell me why everything is loud and moving and why every time I open my eyes all I see is plaid and green stage curtains, a big ass black rectangle, and tan shapes all moving around into the sky. What is all that?'

   The ground shifted again and Dean cursed. 'Why the hell are we driving over so many deep potholes! You're gonna pop the tires!'

   Sam huffed a laugh, “ **Dean, these are the smoothest streets we've been on in days. You're a, you're a little...** ”

   “ **Exactly**.” Balthazar's voice boomed from beyond the black monolith. “ **You are a 'little'. Or a borrower. Or a munchkin. An action figure's toy**.”

   “ **Balthazar, not helping**.” Castiel thundered.

   “ **Well it doesn't look like you two are telling him what he is now. Someone's gotta break it to him, and he already dislikes me, so, yeah.** ” Balthazar then sounded a little too cheerful for what he said next. “ **You have been shrunken down to the size of a rat.** ” he then added, “ **But don't worry, it's all going to be fantastic.** ”

   Dean growled and hissed from his spot on the shirt and he could hear the grin in Balthazar's voice, “ **Oh, please,** _ **please**_ **tell me what he called me, Cassie!** ”

   “ **I'd rather not.** ” Castiel muttered but it still sounded like an earthquake. “ **Dean, he's not lying. You have been miniaturized down from nearly 30 feet tall to about 6 inches tall. 10 inches long nose to tail. And I am sorry, but you are still a dragon.** ”

   “ **A portable one.** ” Balthazar chimed in.

   Dean had the satisfaction of hearing Bobby punch Balthazar. He wished he could see it but all those shapes were taking their sweet ass time coming together. He then had the sinking sensation that he wouldn’t be able to see it from where he laid anyway. He closed his eyes again, willing them to talk to his brain and for them to come to the understanding that what the eyes are seeing is real, and that the brain just needs to accept it and move on. Surprisingly, that worked. Now that he knows what the black blur is the back side of the front seat, the tan blur is part of Cas's trench coat over there. So that means that the wall of plaid and the green stage curtains are...

   'Oh God. I'm laying on Sam's lap aren’t I.' Dean mumbled. Not quite disturbed by the placement so much as the fact that he could fit on someone's lap. 'I'm a damn lap dragon.'

   “ **I wouldn't put it like that.** ” Cas said. “ **You are simply stuck in that body, on Sam's lap**.”

   “ **Tell me, please, I'm begging you. Did Dean just say he's a lap dragon? That is just precious!** ” Balth's glee was heard and then a blurry face popped over the black backseat.

   Startled as hell, Dean jerked his head over and up to Castiel's face and found that familiar look of constipation on it when he dealt with his best friend's quips. Cas leaned forward just a little but the movement stunned Dean stupid. The threat of attack was singing in his nerves and the urge to run from the approaching face was strong.

   “ **I don't see you as that.** ” Cas reassured and leaned back again, giving the little guy some space.

   Dean was panting hard now. He does remember going along with this idea, but he never thought about how terrifying it was going to be. He looked up and up and up and finally saw Sam's face over his whole body, hovering there, looking for all the world like a two ton boulder threatening to fall on him. Dean cringed back a little and Sam lifted up a hand, blocking the edge of his lap. Dean's attention was ripped away from Sam's face to the huge hand that opened up and laid down not two inches away. It could crush him! Dean stumbled to his feet and pawed at the thick fabric under him, seeing a pocket as big as a sleeping bag and staring at it for just a second before another hand came up and blocked that way off of the lap as well.

   'Oh God, oh God, I'm gonna be crushed. Too big. That can't be Sammy. Too big. This is a dream! A nightmare! _Wake up Dean_. _Just wake up._ '

   “ **Dean? You are awake. It's alright. Sam's not gonna hurt you, none of us are. You are safe here. Just stop trying to escape.** ”

   'That's just what monsters want you to do! Stop trying to get away. _Come into my lair said the spider to the fly._ Right? This some kind of fairy tale? I don't believe for a second that blocking me from leaving is a good thing!' Dean growled and hissed. 'For one thing, how the hell are you able to understand me? Huh? Only other monsters would have a chance at understanding me! Where's Sam?!'

   Castiel was now reaching forward a little. “ **Dean! Please calm down. We can understand you because we did a spell, but only Sam and I can hear what you're saying.** ”

   “ **I** _ **am**_ **your brother,** _ **Sam**_ **. It's alright. You know we wouldn't try and trap you or crush you. It's just, you're so little now that falling from this high up might hurt you.** ”

   At that, Dean stilled his movements. Another fear taking root, the oldest one he had. His eyes looked to the black seat in front of the three and then to the chasm below. He couldn't even see the foot well from his position. Even so, he started to back up from the edge and Sam could feel his brother trembling in his lap.

   “ **I'm sorry, I'm not trying to scare you. I wrapped up your wings to help them heal faster. Once the holes are all healed up, then you can fly again. Get anywhere you want to go.** ” Sam lowered his hands from being a wall to a more relaxed position. Dean was now huddling against his stomach, flattening himself to the plaid fabric and it even looked like he wanted to hide inside of it. “ **Oh, I forgot for a second. Your fear of heights.** ”

   “ **Well this complicates things a little.** ” Castiel's voice was gruff and filled with guilt. “ **I didn't think of that. We are so used to seeing him so tall, I thought it stood to reason that a two foot seat wouldn't be seen as threatening.** ”

   Dean looked up to Cas's face, he tried to stop trembling as he said, 'You stand on a cliff and say it's not scary as shit.'

   “ **Touche**.”

   Dean kept on kneading the fabric he was crouched on and told himself to stop looking up or down or at anything really.

   Bobby waited for a few minutes in the silence, driving on and getting closer to the cabin. He nudge Balthazar to help him keep an eye out for the bad guys again and the backseat seemed to calm down. He tried to piece together both sides of the conversation, picturing Dean back there, wanting to pace back and forth but stuck on Sam's lap. He knew Dean pretty well and found a quiet spot to pull over. A mostly deserted lookout next to a river who's name escapes him.

   Bobby turned off the engine and then looked behind his seat at Sam and then down to Dean. “I think I need to stretch my legs. Dean? You wanna join us?”

   Dean opened his eyes again. He had been trying to get used to everything and was coming to terms with it. Suddenly, the voices didn't seem so loud. He looked up to his brother and then Cas. They were looking out the window at Bobby but from this low angle he couldn’t see much. Sam looked down to him and he froze, pinned in place by those hazel eyes.

   “What do you think, Dean? We wont make you do anything you don't want to do. If you want to stay in here, that's fine.” he then lifted up the shirt, somewhat wrapping Dean up in it and then set it on the bench seat between him and Cas.

   Cas nodded at Sam and apparently Bobby outside of the car and then looked down to Dean. “It's up to you. Want to come with? There's a picnic table about 20 feet away from the car we will be at.” A hand and arm the size of a semi trailer lifted in front of Dean and pointed out of Sam's door. Then it dropped to Cas's lap and he just looked to Dean for a response. When he didn't get one, he didn't seem surprised or angry. He nodded as if that was an answer and exited the car. His door was shut, but Sam's was left open. The front doors looked like they were shut too. Dean could see part of the picnic table and Sam's back hunched over it. Something in a paper bag was in front of him and he was whispering something to Bobby or whoever was sitting opposite. Dean stumbled back a few steps when Cas came into view suddenly and shoved a canvas bag into the floor well directly in front of Dean's spot and then another duffel from the bottom of Sam's door to the grass below. Cas didn’t have to explain what it was for and grinned at him.

   “If you need help, just say so, Sam and I can hear you.” Cas pointed to his own head then Dean's, and with that Cas was gone.

   Dean sat alone in the car for at least two solid minutes. Trying to get used to the lack of movement now that it was gone. The air was still and calm outside and he saw Cas had taken a seat next to Sam on the side closer to the car. His tan trench coat pooling on the seat and part of it draping off to the ground. Dean found himself eyeing it as a means to climb up. He shook his head and huffed. Why the hell did they take a pit stop to stare at each other at a park?

   Dean stood up and took a few hesitant steps closer to the doors opening from the seat. The world outside was even larger then inside the car. Immense, vast.. colossal. Words really failed to describe the sight. He stumbled back from the opening and laid down in the shirt again. Waiting for them to come back and for them to get to the cabin already.

   Then he'd have to wait for them to do the spell to change him back. That will be awhile. Weeks.

   'Come on Winchester, you just gonna sit around twiddling your wing thumbs until something happens? Or are you going to man up and get over your fears?' he stopped and hissed at himself, 'Having a fear of heights when you're 6 inches tall is not stupid.' Then belatedly realized that Sam and Cas might be able to hear him. He looked over but saw the others just sitting there, talking amongst themselves about hunting. Sam was telling the story all wrong though. It was not a pair of were-panthers, it was just regular panthers that were enchanted by that curse.

   Dean cleared his long throat and said so. He saw no movement or recognition from them that they heard him. 'Oh great, yeah, real awesome, Cas. Tell me to just give a call and you'll hear me, but this just proves that's wrong.' he growled. Still getting no reaction. 'Unless you're just ignoring me.' he mumbled and huffed. 'Not that I blame you.'

   At hearing that, Cas nearly lost his resolve to get up and go to Dean. A firm hand stilled his movements and a pained expression was on Sam's face. Out of Dean's view, Sam lifted his hand just an inch above the tabletop and signed, 'He will come out. Trust us.' and then out loud he said, “Yeah, then these were-panthers were going crazy, they kept on stealing people's shoes and making a big pile in the woods.” Sam continued on.

   'It was not shoes! I swear Sammy, you can really screw up a story when I'm not there. Hang on, I'll save you the embarrassment. Cas and Balth are gonna look up were-panthers and find some crap from Trueblood and be very disappointed.' He then walked back to the duffel at the front of the seat and made his descent. It was tricky as hell because he had to go sideways, not used to using his hands as legs so he shimmied down while crossing front legs then back legs and at one point just going down backwards so his head was still above his ass. He made it to the floor and took a look around. Two old books were under the front bench seat, some wrappers, a plastic fork, some herbs were jammed in next to the center support bar and he took a sniff at it. Something told him not to touch it, that he wouldn't like it so he gave it a wide berth. He walked under the seat, ducking down and made it to the other side. 'Wow, baby is dirty as hell. Sammy, what the hell have you been doing to her?'

   Now Sam had to refrain from saying something to defend himself. He was searching for his older brother for months! _That's_ what he's been doing. No time to get it washed and waxed. To shampoo the carpets or whatever the hell Dean does when he's sweet talking the Impala.

   Dean went over to the driver's side and looked way up at the dashboard and steering wheel. The gear shift and radio looked damn near surreal from this angle. _Everything_ did. It was like he was dropped into a childrens book – maybe if Alice in Wonderland were modern days they'd have a scene with a 67 Chevy Impala as a set. She may be dirty but she's still a gorgeous sight to see. He had rebuilt her several times over, and had worked on the lower interior plenty of times, but this was so different then laying down looking up. He marveled at the view and machinery for a moment longer and in the back of his mind was planning on different places he could hide in here if he needed to. He hated having to do that, but it was just a fact, he was vulnerable like this. Sure he apparently spent plenty of time as the biggest monster around, but now just about anything can take him down. He never appreciated the power and strength before he lost it. A part of him hated it simply because it put him too high to reach. Everyone that wasn't his family or close friends were scared of him, he could tell. He would be in their shoes. And now he's scared of everyone. A shiver ran its course through his nerves as he side stepped a fallen lighter as long as his arm.

   He walked over to the passenger side next and saw some claw marks all over the interior from something massive. He then went back under the passenger side and took a closer look at Cas's door at the rear right side. There were more scratch marks, dents and holes in the panel. It took him a second after blaming Sam for capturing a werewolf and storing it in the car for him to realize that he probably did this himself when he was a kid. It makes sense that they'd only have the Impala to bring his baby dragon ass back from the woods, but seeing the damage to her interior sent his blood boiling. The dragon was _dangerous_. It attacked Baby and probably Sam and Bobby as well. Only they don't see it like that. Probably explain or will it away. It's playing mind games with them. Making them think that he's harmless, but he knows better, Dean is _dangerous_.

   He aimed his voice inwardly as he growled out loud each venomous word. 'Listen here you little shit. You even try and come out from where ever the hell you're hiding inside MY mind, I will destroy you. This was _my life_ first. You have no right to steal it from me. I am in control and will stay that way until they do that spell and rip you out of me. You don't belong anywhere near _my family._ Got that? If I see you in the head space again... If I think that you or that full dragon try anything again, I will eat a bullet first chance I get. I would rather kill this monster body, with me along with it, then to let you have a chance of hurting my family again. _Don't think I wont_. You leave them alone.' Dean growled a little more at the claw marks in the panel. Directing all his anger and frustration at both dragon sides, hybrid and full dragon. He couldn't rely on what Sam and the others say. That dragon is a menace. Deadly. It would be better off for the world in general to be rid of their kind for good.

   Dean stalked over to the opened door and only after a second of hesitation, he climbed down the second bag to the grass below. He shot appraising looks all around, making sure that there were no animals or threats that could take him out or eat him. Oddly enough, it was damn near business as usual since most monsters they hunt did eat humans. Hunter instincts on full, aided and enhanced by the body's natural instincts he surveyed the area. He had to admit to himself, having these kinds of senses would come in handy in a hunt, but the other sides popping up uninvited could mean disaster. He can't put anyone at risk like that. His pace quickened as he got better control over the legs and keeping the wings up and out of the way. The tail would have to wait. He's got enough on his mind then to make sure it behaved. Damn he couldn't wait to get away from the monster body. He looked over as he approached everyone, and started putting what shoes everyone was wearing to memory to identify them later. He was halfway to the colossal picnic table when he realized that the four people in front of him were no longer talking. He stopped in his tracks to look up instead of over at the relaxed legs and feet from underneath.

   Cas looked stunned and very sad. Then he turned in his seat and he could see Sam lean back to also get a look at him standing there on the ground. The grass came up to just past his shoulders, only his neck and head would be visible from ground level. He slowly started walking towards the table again and for some reason Cas was wiping his eyes.

   “You don't mean that do you?” Cas asked, leaning forward.

   “Dean... you... how could you even think that?” Sam said next.

   Wait... what? Oh, what he said earlier... Bobby and Balthazar sure looked baffled as all hell so it wasn't something said at the table. Shit. So they could hear him after all. And they had been pretending not to. To what? Force him out here in the open? Trick him into getting over his fears at being downsized?

   'You guys are assholes.' He growled and turned around again, shouting the growls over his shoulder, 'You can ignore me some more, I _wont bother you again_.'

   A sound like a windstorm made him stumble a little and suddenly there were walls of peach flesh dipping in front of him. Before he could call out in alarm he was swept up into the hands and brought up to terrifying heights. Not even words could form on his lips at the sheer distance from his feet to the ground infinity far below. His panicked whimpers went unnoticed as his body was pulled backwards towards something huge and unyielding. ' _STOP!!_ ' he screamed but the movement continued, he was pressed close to a wall of fabric and one hand was suddenly underneath him for support while the other was stroking his head, neck, back and then wrapping around his tail as it gently glided over his body again and again. Someone was freakin' _petting_ him while he's trying not to die from a heart attack. 'Please stop! Put me down. Put me down. I swear I wont do it again. Whatever it was. Just please _put me down_!'

   Sam came around to the other side of the tan wall and leaned forward over the cowering figure. “Dean. It's ok, Cas is putting you down now. Right Cas?”

   Castiel shook his head a little. How could he be expected to put Dean down when he was too busy putting himself down? Doesn't Dean see that he's loved? Wanted? Needed? Doesn't he see that they'd do anything for him? _Except_ to give up on him?

   Dean felt his body get wet and the scent of salt was thick in the air. Panic, worry, and anxiety were next. Oh that's right, dragon senses peoples emotions. Just another freakin' thing to deal with. Sam's hands appeared at Dean's eye level as an alternative to the clutching ones of Cas's. Dean squirmed a little to get away. Sam promised he'd be put down and at that second, that's all that mattered to Dean. Cas's confusing feelings were a far second. The dizzying heights stopped him dead when he looked down and Sam took it upon himself to aide in Dean's relocation. One hand went to pry Cas's hand off and the other was held out right next to Dean's body.

   “It's ok Cas, I got him.” Sam soothed. “I wont hurt him. I just want him, because right now, you're kinda freaking him out.”

   Cas blinked rapidly to loose those few tears that hung to his eyelashes. Then looking down to see that they fell right onto Dean's back. Soaking into his wing bandages. A stray thought hit Cas that distracted him long enough for Sam to take possession of his older but much smaller brother. “Sorry, the salt is gonna upset his injuries.” Cas mumbled and pointed at Dean's wet bandages.

   Once Dean was in Sam's hands he lifted the fingers to provide Dean with a little more feeling of security. Dean clutched to the two pinky fingers that were right next to each other and after he got his voice back, said, 'No problem Cas.' hurriedly and then stole a glance upwards to the underside of Sam's chin. 'You can put me down now, Sammy.' The chirps warbled nervously but no one commented on it.

   Sam brought Dean back to the Impala and set him down onto the shirt again. Knowing that Dean would feel safer in the car then outside on the ground with giants all huddled over and around him. Tall bodies stretching into the sky from his point of view. Sam lifted up the edges of the rumpled shirt and was just about to pat him on the head but caught himself. He nodded firmly and shut the door most of the way, but still left a gap so Dean didn't feel trapped. He also did not want to slam it and scare Dean further from the sharp noise.

   Sam rounded on Cas the instant he turned around. “What was all that about? He asked you to put him down and you grabbed him and held on against his will.”

   Cas wiped off his face and had to breath to compose himself. He never got this emotional before. “He said, -”

   “I know what he said. I also _heard_ what he said. He _begged_ you to put him down.” Sam interrupted. “Dean can't deal with things when he's up in the air. Being scared of heights isn’t something you just get over. And trying to force him to talk or accept anything while he's scared and suspended helplessly in the air by giants, is not the best way to do it.” Sam started to pace back and forth. “I know my brother. You. You he just met what, a month ago? I've known him my whole life.” Sam shrugged of Bobby's hand on his shoulder. “Not even a month! You knew the _hybrid_. That's like, a copy of Dean, a bastardized version. Like a pirated movie from China. Close, but not the real thing.”

   Balthazar was standing next to Cas, getting ticked off as well, but at Sam. Cas took it all. Guilt coming off of him in waves. Breaking Balthazar's heart to hear his friend take the abuse. All Cas wanted to do was make Dean feel better. How could he know how deep Dean's fear of heights was?

   “Back off Sam.” Balthazar threatened, taking a step between the two men. He may be shorter then both but he was no pushover. “Bullying Cassie isn't going to solve anything.” he then placed a hand up to Sam's chest to push him back by force if necessary. Cas stayed quiet.

   Sam's anger was on a roll though. “You two held him captive, treated him like an animal, right? Or did I miss the part where he had a choice or a chance to leave. Dean doesn't need you guys. He needs _family_. Bobby and I can take care of him from here on. You two can just go on your merry way.”

   “Like hell we're gonna leave him now when he's most vulnerable! We owe it to him to see this through.”

   “You don't owe him shit. You helped get him out, now you're even. So goodbye.” Sam turned to go to the driver's seat and motioned for Bobby to get in as well. He didn't know what was coming over him, but just thinking about Cas holding Dean basically hostage set him off. Dean's spent far too long being held against his will.

   Balthazar followed him over, looking down for a second at something that caught his eye, then back up, angling Sam's attention away from Cas with a wave of his hand. “What about all that talk between you and Cassie saying that you're happy they found each other? Was that all bullshit? What about all those times I had to feign ignorance at their constant love stares. Eye sex or whatever you yanks call it. _Heart eyes_. You can't possibly stand there and tell me you didn't think that they would be great together. In _any_ form. They worked it out and will work things out as a couple. You can't tell me that you didn’t bloody _encourage_ it! Because I was there Sammy. It was real. It _is_ real.”

   “Don't call me Sammy.” Sam bit out. “Only he's allowed to call me that.” He jabbed a thumb to the backseat but when he looked, he couldn’t see Dean at all. “Dean?”

   Both fighter's eyes went to the car, conflict totally forgotten. “Dean? Dean! Come on man, say something. Let us know where you are.” Sam begged, debating whether or not to open up the car door all the way.

   “See? You are thinking about trapping him just like you were berating Cas for it.”

   “Shut up, Balth, and help me find him!”

   “Don't call me Balth.” Balthazar snipped back. The murderous glare sent his way was almost funny. Sam was the only one not in on it. “He's over there.” Balthazar lazily pointed at Dean who was standing at Castiel's feet. Half hiding from Sam's intimidating form. “He came out when you started making Cas feel bad. Because that's what boyfriends do. They look after their loved ones.”

   Cas was still standing there. Tears in his eyes looking all the way down to Dean standing at his feet. Barely taller then his ankles, pawing at his shoes for attention. Dean never said a word, but Balth didn’t need to hear him to see that he was as distressed as Cas was.

   Dean looked up at Balthazar's statement. This thing he feels with Cas. It can't be love. No way does he get someone like _Cas_. Sure he was scared to be up so high with no way down by himself, but, he still felt that he was safe with him. He just didn't like the height part of being held. Still doesn't. But dammit Cas is looking like someone kicked his puppy and this ache in Dean's chest says that he put that sadness there. He turned his head back up to Cas, grateful that the neck doesn't hurt looking up that high because damn, when did the weird guy in a trench coat get so _tall_? Dean cleared his throat, a needless gesture, but one he felt like doing to waste some time and to get Cas's attention back on him.

   'Cas?' he asked. Sam looked down at him too. With things as huge as they are, it's hard not to take notice when they look his way. He repressed a shiver and tried again, Cas stopped looking at him and turned his head away from everyone. Looking like he wanted to bolt but wouldn't do that simply because Dean was leaning on his shoe and Cas did not want to add injury to insult. Dean was pinning him to the spot with barely a pound to his frame.

   'Cas, please look at me.' Dean tried again. When Cas shook his head Dean huffed at him and took a few fistfuls of pant leg. 'Don't make me climb you. I'm not so skilled with these knives at the ends of my fingers and toes.' Cas wiped his sleeve across his face but still made no motion that he was going to address Dean properly. 'Fine.' Dean grit out and dug into the pants and awkwardly tried to climb up the constantly moving and shifting fabric. Balth looked like he was going to bend over and help and got a hiss for his troubles. He backed up as if Dean was going to attack his big toes. Dean looked back up at Cas but saw only the ends of his suit jacket and the lapels of his coat. And of course Cas's crotch. But he wasn’t interested in that at the moment. Fuck it. That would be one way to get a reaction. 'Cas. You're gonna regret making me climb up when I get to your junk.' He smirked and chirped, 'Don't think I wont find some hand holds.' A few claws flexed in the fabric, seeking out and finding the skin behind it.

   That got a reaction as Cas's hands shot down to cover his area as Balthazar laughed.

   “Lemme guess, Dean said something naughty?” Balth wheezed and Sam looked like the tension went away like it was never there.

   “Something like that.” Sam informed informally, finding it hard to stay mad when there's a tiny dragon climbing up a blushing cryptozoologist. “Cas. It's ok Man. I got carried away, so worried about his safety... I am sorry I got upset.” he said, stepping closer to open hand slap Cas's shoulder. “I don't actually want you to go. And it looks like Dean would never speak to me again if I tried to make you leave.”

   'Damn right, Sasquatch.' Dean grunted around the mouthful of fabric as he flapped his bound wings for balance. 'So much easier if you hadn't trussed me up like a turkey, Bitch.' A sideways glance Sam's way, and he was back to climbing Mount Cas-more.

   Castiel leaned forward and Dean swung backwards, scrabbling for a better hold when he felt hands underneath him. He kicked at them but let them support his hind legs as he pulled up the rest of himself with his hands and teeth. It was a very slow process but Dean made it to Castiel's shoulder and hunkered down with a death grip on his collar and tail wrapped around Castiel's neck and under the collar. 'Stop moving! I got this. Just. Stand still and don't move for a minute.' Dean grumbled and Cas nodded his understanding. 'I said stop moving!' Dean saw the slight smile from his side of Cas's face. Damn it was big. Those blue eyes were looking down at him, darting all over his body, and Dean knew it was making his friend nervous being up there and unrestrained.

   'Ok. Now. Cas.' Dean started, 'I like you. I am not scared of you. Let me just make that clear. I wasn't lying when I said I trusted you. I mean, you trusted your life in my hands before. I kinda remember that... and other things... And I know what I look like so that couldn't have been easy. That takes balls.' he stated and then looked over and up to Sam. 'Sam. I trust you too, but you gotta understand that I don't always know what I want. Or what all is going through my head. There's some things... I'm not good at. Chick flick moments for one.' he huffed a laugh.

   Sam was cheering him on in his head, Dean's finally _talking_ about real things going on with him. Sam was so used to seeing Dean pretend to know it all, have all the plans laid out, as reliable as a rock. So much so, that he got used to thinking that his brother was invincible and started to treat him like that. In everything, not just hunting. Every time Sam caught wind of Dean getting down on himself for mistakes he tried to turn the mood around. Or give him a way out of dealing with all the shit. Dean was not good at talking about himself and now it looked like Cas is bringing it out by just standing there. Sam thought to himself, 'It's _because Cas_ is still _here._ ' and kicked himself for nearly driving Cas away and therefore driving away the one person that is helping Dean open up.

   'So let me say this and then help me down. I will let you do that for me.' Dean huffed another laugh before gripping tighter to the collar. 'Cas I don't want you to go. But I respect you enough to say that I wont guilt you into staying. If you want to go, I guess, I’ll let you go. But, I hope to Heaven that you want to stay.' Dean shifted his gaze to Sam. 'Sammy, same goes for you. I don't want you to feel guilty that I'm like this. You shouldn’t have to stick around and take care of your screw up brother. I remember your days at Stanford. Between hunts when Dad and I were bored out of our minds and getting on each others nerves, I hot-wired a car or two and stalked your ass from the bushes.'

   Sam made a scandalized sound and said, “I never knew that! Why the fuck didn't you drop in and say hi? Jerk!”

   'Because I didn't want to distract you from your studies, Bitch. Now shut up, caring and sharing time isn’t over yet.' Dean leaned a little closer to Cas and said quietly. 'I uh, I care about you too Cas. I don't know if you know this but uh, I can tell what your feeling. Most of the time. I can with everyone. And I can also tell that you're trying like mad right now to hide _that one._ You know which one. And I wont stand for it. I'm gonna need that emotion aimed at me because if you try and hide it, I’m going to have to show you my side of it even harder.' Cas's eyebrows pinched and his head tilted to the side, bumping into Dean and making him grin. He whispered even quieter, not sure if Sam can hear his every word or just the ones that he says loud enough, fuck it, let him hear. 'I love you too, Cas.' and left it at that. Trying to gauge a reaction from someone 20 times his size, gripping the shoulder tightly, and still only being able to see the side of the face. The blue eyes dilated and that scent and feeling came at Dean so strongly that he was nearly knocked off of his perch.

   Two hands shot up and cupped around him but this time it wasn't so bad. Once Cas's hands got there, they merely stabilized him and then flattened a little. Giving him the offer of getting on or staying put. Dean held his breath and got on, even though he could see the ground far below with nothing but the fingers in-between. Cas shifted both hands towards his upper chest, just under his neckline. One hand going to press Dean's fidgeting body closer to Cas's own as a warm embrace.

   “I love you too, Dean.” he murmured and tucked his chin down to nuzzle Dean's forehead with the end of his nose. Bringing up the little sharp body to give him one last question of permission before he got it and pressed lips to Dean's.

   Dean had closed his eyes but felt the warmth all around him and wanted to sink into it. He tilted his head up and saw Cas's lips twitch and give a very slight pucker. Dean lifted up his head to give Cas access and snaked his tongue out to give Cas some sign that he was definitively cool with it. The huge chapped lips quirked up on both sides and Dean ducked back shyly. He just kissed Cas. Or did Cas kiss him? His eyes darted from one giant blue eye to the other and both were crinkling at the corners. Yup, that's his smile. Cas is genuinely happy with that kiss. Well that's awesome because Dean doesn't know if he can do better at the moment.

   ''Ok, now you can let me down.' Dean said and looked over to Sam for a second to make sure that his gigantic little brother didn’t take his request like a demand or plea. Just informing Cas that he can let him down. 'Unless,' Dean added, thinking it over how awesome being warmed by Cas's body is. 'Unless you don't want to, I'm cool with that. Either way.'

   Cas studied Dean's face and frowned slightly. “No, you're not, but that's quite alright, Dean. I will only hold you when you want me to.” He looked to Sam as he said the next, “No hard feelings.” As a statement and question.

   “Yeah. We're good.” Sam nodded and they turned to face the picnic table. “So, should we uh, show Dean what we were trying to trick him into discovering?”

   Dean squinted hard at his brother. He knew it. Well, no he didn't, but he _suspected_ it. Whatever it is. What the hell is it? Dean squirmed in the hands and Cas carried him over to the table rather then making him climb up it on his own like their original plan. The four of them wanted Dean to get curious enough and build up enough courage to come out into the open and join them in the conversation. Once Dean'd gotten to the top, he was to be awarded the half pound of meat patties as a reward. Cas just lowered Dean down to the tabletop and opened up the wrappings. The meat wasn't warm anymore but Dean didn’t care. It was Angus well done hamburgers. A deep sniff confirmed they were from Biggerson's, his favorite restaurant.

   'Holy shit, guys.' Dean whisper-cooed. He got to his feet and walked the short distance to the meat that was probably bigger then his whole body. 'Thanks.' he chirped and gave zero shits that it sounded like a bird as he dug face first into the meat. Moaning at how delicious it tasted. 'Even better then when I was human!' he cheered and stuffed his face, both hands digging into the meat as he felt each bite travel down his long neck. 'Oh man. Wow. Did you guys want any of this?' he held up a handful of meat to his brother then Cas when the former shook his head. Cas grinned and accepted the tiny morsel of meat and ate it.

   Cas carefully sat down closest to Dean and folded his arms in front of himself and rested his chin on them.“Very delicious. I had one earlier if you want to finish these off.” Dean felt the vibrations in the table from Cas's deep gravely voice. What kind of heaven would that feel like to lay on his chest while he says stuff? Gonna get that geek an instruction manual to read. Dean pressed his hands back to the table top as Cas spoke up again. “Go ahead. I like watching you eat.”

   'Ok, not the most normal thing I've heard but, whatever.' Dean teased and kept on eating.

   “I meant that I like watching over you. I like knowing that you're safe and out of that damned cage.” Cas clarified.

   'Oh. Uh, thanks.' Dean nodded and took another bite to distract himself. He finished one whole patty before his stomach protested too loud for him to hear anything else. 'Holy crap... I am stuffed.' he laid down close to Cas's arms and when it looked like Cas was about to pull away Dean put claw to skin and pressed down just hard enough to let Cas know that he _could_ if he wanted to. Giving a pointed look up at him. Cas rested his head back down on his wrist and once Dean's claws were off of his forearm, he wrapped an arm around the small form. Sandwiching him between them.

   “Better?” Cas nudged Dean's drooping head with his nose and Dean hummed pleasantly. Before he knew it, Dean licked Castiel's lip again and dipped his head under the large lower lip, tucking in like it was his rightful place. The stubble bent against Dean's scales and actually tickled a bit. He felt tiny constant movements from Cas's mouth which was clearly ticklish itself. He gave the larger being a break and laid his head down on the arm closest instead. If Dean decided to make him, Cas would probably stay stock still for hours while Dean slept. He was a weird one. Too obsequious. Dean will have to break him of that fawning habit.

   Dean was only slightly aware that Bobby wasn't around for a little while and asked Sam where he went off to.

   “Bobby is over there talking to some guys that were coming back from a hunting trip. They bagged a 8 point deer and Bobby is giving them some advice on how to prepare it and mount it. They were going to take it into the butcher shop. He should be back in a few.”

   'And Balth?' Dean asked, getting up and stretching. He must have laid there with Cas for a long time because Cas actually fell asleep.

   “Balth went to the tourist shop over there to buy a charger for his phone or something. We didn’t have an adapter for his brand. Did you need him?”

   Dean shook his head but realized that Sam couldn't see the movement from that far away. It kinda hit home how little he was now. It also pointed out that Sam could still hear him from that far away. Dean will have to watch his mouth. 'No, I'm good. Cas has got me pinned down pretty good and warm. He's like a freakin' toaster.'

   “Need help getting out?” Sam was already walking over with hands outstretched.

   'No! No that's ok. It's ah, it's rude to wake someone up. I'm good here.' Dean wiggled in further in-between the arms. 'Kinda nice. But don't you dare tell anyone I said that.'

   “Mums the word.” Sam made his lips 'lock' shut and threw away the key. “'Sides, I think everyone already knows you like to cuddle.”

   'Dude. Shut up.' Dean huffed a little irritated. 'Do you know how much it sucks never getting warm enough on your own?'

   Sam shut his mouth and Dean got hit with the kicked puppy eyes.

   'It's fine Sam. Just gives me an excuse to get in nice and close with this fine hunk of nerd scientist. And if you play your cards right, you can have your very own nerd scientist as well.' Dean lifted a hand and pointed in Balth's direction.

   “Right, because I think Balth is hot.”

   'Hey, you said it, not me.'

   “Dean, for one, I am not gay. And you can't make someone gay just because you want them to be. Two, I am not attracted to him, which goes kinda hand in hand with the first point. And c, you are an idiot. If I was into guys, I would not choose someone named _Balthazar_.”

   “And why not?” Balth spoke up from down the path. “I happen to know that every single _Balthazar_ out in the world today is a first class lover that can make your toes curl and your mother clutch her pearls. We, are a fine and rare breed of sex fiends that can teach porn stars a thing or two.”

   Sam grinned and said, “That a fact?”

   “Call me sometime and find out Big Boy.” Balth ran a finger up Sam's arm and walked past him to the Impala.

   “You knew he was right there didn't you.” The shit eating grin on Dean's little face was clear as day and Sam refrained from slapping him upside the head. “Alright, come on you walking Gecko commercial. Daylights wasting.”

   Dean hissed at Sam and buried his head farther under Cas's arms, waking him up with the sharp spikes along his neck. Cas recoiled his arms and looked down at the dragon ball and nudged him with a knuckle. “Dean? Are you ok?”

   'Give me my heater back and then we'll talk.' Dean's grumble was muffled under his wrapped up wing. He felt two hands on either side of his body come together slowly underneath him, shifting his light weight from one side to the other like a rocking boat until he was half crouching half laying on the hands. Sighing with absolute contentment at the warmth. 'Cas, you rock.' as he was brought closer to the huge body. Dean felt his entire world shift forward, scoot to the side, then drop out below him as he was brought up. Dean hugged the fingers tighter at the ground shaking footfalls, and shuttered for a few seconds at thinking about what it would be like to be on the ground with these giants walking around him. Before they were just standing around, more or less, and it was easier to think of them being harmlessly rooted to the spot like skyscrapers or statues. Of course the logical side of his mind laughed it's ass off at him. Bastard. He dismissed his jitters as simple disorientation at being shrunken down from a 30 foot tall badass, to 10 inch hero.

   Cas didn't care. That much was getting plain to see, he respected Dean no matter what size. Just like he promised he would. Dean started to purr but if anyone asked, he'd insist it was the car.

   Dean was placed on Castiel's lap and both of the large protective arms formed a loose protective nest around him. He settled in after turning in a circle on Cas's lap. Not like a dog, dammit, he simply didn't know how to get his tail to do the thing. Now it was wrapped around is body and he curved his hands together to keep the nails from going through the denim pants.

   'Are these my jeans?'

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I do believe this is my longest chapter yet, and it really isn't a surprise since I just love pocket/dragon!Dean! Lemme know if I failed spectacularly or if it was alright. I'm just glad that those two lovebird idiots finally confessed their feelings to each other! Now if only Dean was five feet longer and less spiky... ah, they'll figure something out ;)


	23. Tremble Little Lion Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fair warning that in this chapter is fluff and a few promises of Destiel smut in the future. 
> 
> After being pulled over by the cops, they have to find a way to hide their little friend.

Chapter Twenty Three:

Tremble Little Lion Man

 

 

   Castiel's arms slowly came closer to Dean the longer the trip lasted. Dean's trembling started up again at the sounds of the highway around them and Cas couldn't miss Dean's sounds of minor distress at seeing massive trees whip by the back seat windows at breakneck speeds again. Without a word, and contrary to their little speech not long ago, Cas slowly inched his hand closer to Dean and cupped it around his small body, holding him securely. It was done so slowly and gradually to give Dean plenty of time to get used to the idea or voice his opinion about it. So far, it seems as though he was all for it. It shouldn’t have felt so comforting to Dean but he found himself calming down because of it. It was like the worlds greatest seat belt for him. The car's noise and vibrations didn't seem so intimidating when they were replaced by the steady beat of Castiel's heart heard through his veins, and then stroke of his thumb against his side.

   Dean peeked up through the hole that his thumb and forefinger made, angling his head upwards to Cas's face and found him looking out of the side window, lost in thought. He found himself gazing at the underside of Cas's chin and the bob of his Adam’s apple. The other scents were muted a little, but that constant thrum of love was still first and foremost surrounding Cas. All the other feelings and scents hinted that Cas wasn't just deep in thought, he was thinking about a lot of things. Probably all at once. Dean felt the fingers tighten or twitch every once in awhile, but never once thought of it as threatening. He figured that people do that subconsciously. Anyone that stays perfectly still is likely dead.

   Even though Cas was cupping his hand around Dean like a protective barrier, if one of Dean's longer spikes caught on his skin, he'd flinch back from it for a second, but pretend it didn't hurt. Resting it again around his small sharp body. It's gotta hurt though... and yet here Cas was, hand forming a kind of cave for him. Dean lifted up his wings a little so that the spikes on his back weren't so prominent. Cas's poor hands need a break from the pain.

   Castiel's eyes darted down to his hand and he lifted it a little, seeing Dean's head peeking out and looking up at him. “Something wrong, Dean?”

   Sam looked over the bench seat at them sitting behind him, raising an eyebrow. Bobby was too busy driving to give more then a cursory scan.

   'I’m fine guys.' Dean squirmed a little as Balthazar gazed his way next. Was he ever going to get used to so many giants hanging on his every word? Sam and Cas are translating his words for the others. It's kinda odd to hear what he says in their words. Sam sums it up better, while Cas is all about saying it to the letter unless it's directed at him and has nothing to do with the other guys in the car.

   'Cas, sorry about the sharp bits...' his whining chirp trailed off.

   “It's perfectly fine. Doesn't hurt.” Cas grinned and Dean scented the hint of bullshit in the air.

   'Uh huh...' he hummed dubiously. He arched his back a little and smirked when the hand cave quickly lifted higher. 'No, no I believe you.' his tail uncurled and poked the thick thumb muscle. Being _very_ careful not to draw blood.

   He got a dirty glare from Cas who clenched his jaw and lowered his hand down over Dean's body, putting a pinch of pressure on it. Just enough to drive Dean's spikes into his palm for some weird reason. He lifted his hand again and Dean's body went with it for a couple centimeters before the fingers and palm flexed outwards, making the spines dislodge and Dean drop back onto the lap. He immediately hunched down again, trying to keep the spikes as far from the hand as possible. Worried he'd injure Cas further, and confused as hell. Cas had _willingly_ skewer himself.

   Castiel lifted up his hand from the little dragon and showed off his palm. Small indents all in a line marked where his spine was, but no blood went along with the broken skin. “I may work behind a desk, but I am not thin skinned. I work with my hands a lot, but the sides of the fingers and top of my hands are slightly more sensitive. Before, your spikes surprised me more then anything.” Castiel lowered his hand to the side and moved his index finger closer for Dean's inspection.

   'Oh.' Dean lifted up his hand and touched Cas's index finger, claws catching at every small ridge of his fingerprint. At this size, it was hard to tell how thick the skin was, it was damn near solid to him. There was a few white scars on the fingers, probably too tiny for Cas to even know about. Paper cuts most likely. His hand traveled down the long thick finger to the wide palm and found a thick callous there at the bottom of the finger on the palm. He poked it with his claw and chuckled at Cas's twitching. Since the fingers were relaxed, they felt more like a stuffed leather couch cushions. His own small hand felt around Cas's fingers some more, exploring how odd it looked and felt. It must be ticklish because he could see Cas try and fail to suppress an honest to God giggle. Good little piece of information to abuse later on.

   Dean never gave hands much thought until one became his bed. His own tiny clawed hands trailed all along the lifeline and others then moved onto the smaller wrinkles that shifted appearance when Cas moved his hand to grant better access. The lines that formed a matrix of diamond shapes turned into a checkerboard at every movement in the skin. Tiny lines shifting with the muscles under the skin. Constantly forming different patterns. His own hands were scaled and had lines but were far from being as flexible as Cas's. Dean was enthralled and spent a good chunk of time putting the lines and feel to memory. Wishing he could just hold this hand in his own. He placed his hand in the webbed spot between the thumb and index finger on the palm. He closed his eyes for a second and pretended he was human again.

   “I can still feel that you know.” Cas nearly whispered. Dean startled for a second, he was lost in his daydream. Did Cas mean he felt the touch or the sentiment?

   Balthazar looked casually beside him to Cas and Dean and a very small smile graced his lips. He turned away again, trying to make it obvious that he wasn't intending on interrupting them. Bobby did likewise. Knowing that he'd have his chance to talk to Dean when they get settled in. The cabin was only another hour's drive away. They made good time now that they could use the highways.

   Bobby found another gas station and pulled in. “One more fill up and we should be there. If anyone has a deep seated desire to use a flushing toilet, better do so now.”

   Sam nodded and Balthazar got out too. Dean looked up to Cas and gave a little whine.

   “Oh! I totally forgot... uhh... you can accompany me when I go in for my turn.”

   'And do what exactly?' Dean wondered if Cas was gonna just hold him over the urinal.

   “You can use the sink?” Cas offered. Sam had gone inside the store once he was done with the facilities, and was spotted lugging out a full propane tank. The tank made the car shift and Dean accidentally dug into Cas's legs at the sudden movement.

   That did get a pained hiss from his boyfriend. 'Shit! Sorry!' Dean retracted the nails and jumped off of Castiel's lap to the seat next to him. 'You ok?'

   Cas rubbed his thighs and gave a weak smile. “It's fine, but I think you put holes in your jeans.” He thumbed at the tiny frays. Castiel looked out of the window and checks out the others taking turns filling up the car and spare gas cans that Balthazar had just bought for the cabin. Sam and Balth were currently discussing other provisions needed for the potentially month long stay at the cabin. Once the others were done with the restroom at the side of the building, they gave Castiel the thumbs up to show the area was clear of onlookers, before going back to taking turns buying groceries and supplies. Making sure at least one of them was on lookout but making it so that it wasn't obvious.

   “Our turn.” Cas made to pick Dean up but he backed up a few steps from the approaching hands.

   'Wait! Wait Cas, were you just going to carry me in there like a little dog?'

   Cas's hands hesitated “...uhh... no?” he then inquired, “Were you going to suggest walking there yourself? It's pretty far for you.” Leave it to Cas to put Dean's little legs first over being spotted by civilians.

   Dean sighed heavily at the situation and inspected the giant's form for possibilities. The first one that came to mind was one he'd seen a billion times before. Of course all those other times, the tiny being had the benefit of being human with fewer limbs and sharp bits. Balthazar may need to buy a box of bandages while he's in there... 'I’ve seen enough movies to know what we can do.' he couldn't believe he was about to suggest it. Well, at least this time there was more then one option at his disposal due to his boyfriends eclectic wardrobe. 'You can empty your trench coat pocket and put me in there.'

   “Pardon?” Cas tilted his head in confusion. “You'd rather ride around in a pocket? The others gave the signal that it's all clear. They're still out there motioning for us to hurry up.”

   'The pocket's fine, I don't care about... About being 'confined' or whatever. I'm more worried about being _seen_. Let's get this show on the road, 'cause _I really have to pee_.' he begged and started walking closer to the pocket that was laying half closed on the seat next to Cas's leg. Cas pulled it onto his lap and dove a hand in, rooting around for anything that might hurt him. He pulled out some receipts and a sheet of paper that had fallen out of the spell book earlier. He then dug around in his other pocket and revealed two of the metal pieces that had fallen from Dean's skin during the shrinking process. He laid them on the seat and Dean whistled at the size of the scale's replica. Cas then shuffled out of the car and stood up. His head and shoulders disappearing from Dean's view for a second before he leaned back in again. One hand resting on the seat to support his weight, and making it dip down.

   Dean gulped audibly and haltingly took a few steps forward. Seeing his struggle with his gut instincts versus his body's demand to defecate, Cas hastened the decision making process. His other hand swooped in to a spot below his chest with the palm up all innocent and invitingly on the seat right next to Dean. He did not want to simply grab Dean again, that would shatter all trust Dean had for him. Cas idly wondered how much was left?

   Dean took a steadying breath and climbed on the waiting hand. Closing his eyes tightly, he laid down and gripped the fingers underneath him in what would have been a body crushing hug. Once Cas was able to lean back and get his weight off of his supporting hand, he cupped it behind Dean's body and brought him closer to his stomach again.

   “I don't feel comfortable shoving you in a pocket, Dean.” Cas admitted. “Can you get in yourself so I'm not injuring your wings?”

   'I trust you.' Dean's clipped chirp was anything but brave.

   Cas sighed and instead of putting Dean in his coat pocket, he covered up the hand holding Dean with the other side of his coat and held the lapels closed with his free hand. Dean was pressed securely to Cas's side. Dean looked down and saw the feet start walking and whimpered a little, 'This is why I wanted to be in a big pocket, so I wouldn’t see the ground fly by.'

   Castiel gave no indication of hearing him and made it to the bathroom without incident. Sam held out the key, but seeing that Cas's hands were busy, he unlocked the door for him and put the key on the sink.

   “Ok, Cas, take your time. The station is pretty empty at the moment. See if you can't talk him into getting a bath.”

   'Shut up, Bitch. I am not bathing in a _men's room sink._ '

   Sam grimaced and said, “Fair point, but you _are_ going to get cleaned before bed. I don't think you've ever had a bath that involved actual soap before. In this form or the last.” he teased, “You could use it.”

   Dean was about to say something back but the intensely loud thundering sound of the door shutting, shut his mouth. Light leaked into his spot as the coat opened up fully to reveal a simple bathroom. At least it was clean for being out in the middle of nowhere, and only the barest hint of the obligatory distasteful scents. Cas held him in both hands for a second, wondering how they're going to do this since he had to go as well.

   'Sink, and don't peek.'

   Cas nodded and set him on top of the counter next to the sink and Dean walked to the faucet, placing both hands onto the knob and failing miserably to turn it. Cas must have read his mind as he reached over and turned it on full blast to mask the future sounds.

   Cas angled himself away from the sink as best he could and only had a moment of pee shyness before the sounds of water helped him out. Meanwhile Dean was pacing awkwardly around the sink, trying to figure out how to do this and not fall in. The drainage wasn’t the best so the sink started to slowly fill up. Dean blushed as he decided on doggy style and lifted up a hind leg and hoped that that would work. He wiggled his butt a little and tried to figure out just how the dragon got his _little_ lizard to come out. 'God this is so weird...' he muttered. Once the sink was nearly full and he was still painfully full, he sighed in defeat and looked over to Cas who was already done and simply facing the corner out of respect.

   'Cas? I give up. How does this thing work?'

   Cas turned around and raised an eyebrow. The sink was nearly overflowing so he turned off the water and it drained out again. “Problem?”

   'First off, _do not laugh_.' he pointed up a clawed finger accusingly to Cas. Once he got a nod he continued, 'How does he do it? The dragon. Does he squat? Lift a leg? Stand on his hind legs and let her rip? What?'

   The blush on Cas's face was even more pronounced now then it was when he first thought of this situation. “I uh, don't know.”

   'You don't know?' he said flatly.

   Castiel looked insulted, “I didn't watch him go to the bathroom before. That's too...”

   Dean nodded in understanding. 'Right, ok, well, I need to go like _yesterday_ , so uh. Any thoughts?'

   “You really want my input?”

   ' _Cas_!' Dean shouted, fully annoyed now. 'At this point I don't care if you hold it for me, just tell me what a man's gotta do!'

   Castiel couldn’t stop the sweat from beading on his forehead as he leaned forward for a look and just then Dean understood how awkward this was for him. Sure they confessed their love for each other, but it's not like the rest of this is going to be easy peasy. “Well, uhmm... other animals with this kind of... _setup_ usually uh... kick their back legs out to the sides and dip their belly's down. To uh... angle it downwards.” Cas pantomimed terribly and couldn’t keep the quaver from his voice. “Puppies squat, and of course adult dogs lift a leg... uhmmm..... do you really need me here for this?”

   Dean gave him a break and said, 'No, I got it. Thanks. Just. I guess, plug your ears for a few minutes. I'll shout when I'm done.' He then jumped into the empty sink and walked to the drain. He waved his hand for Cas to shoo then reached up to the faucet to hold his front end up. Thankfully the sink was pretty shallow so he could reach it alright.

   Finally, the dam broke and he sighed in relief. Holy crap he had to go. He couldn't help but watch the process, it did kinda resemble a dog's unit but different. Not that he was perving on dog's but a person just notices these kinds of things when little brother's bring home horny stray dogs. Dean does not like dogs for a number of reasons. While thinking back on 'T- _humper_ ,' Another pressing need had him squatting over the drain and relieving that pressure as well. At least that part was pretty self explanatory, except for the surprise ending when he turned around. 'Is it supposed to be smoking?'

   “Hmm?”

   'Nothing. Nothing... just, run some water but don't look in there.' He instructed and got out of the sink. Cas washed out the whole bowl of the sink with his hand cupping water to the edges. Dean wanted to laugh, did Cas think he soiled the entire sink? Cas then washed his hands thoroughly. Before he had a chance to turn off the water, Dean climbed up onto his right arm and positioned himself on the wide sleeve to dip his own tiny hands under the weak stream of water as well. Cas gave him a tiny drop of the liquid soap and Dean tried to keep his balance as he washed his hands, even though he didn’t use them as hands as much as he did feet. They were still dirty from walking around everywhere and the thought of using his hands for eating and walking was now started to get to him.

   Dean was a little bit of a germaphobe. He was able to put it aside during hunts but now, it was disturbing. Cas angled his hand to let Dean off but Dean wanted nothing more to do with the bathroom sink. So Cas just handed him a paper towel and carefully dried his hands while trying not to jostle Dean from his arm as he did the same.

   'Great! Now let's never speak of this again.'

   “Agreed.” and turned his arm so that his hand was palm side up again. Dean walked down to it and settled there as Cas hid it inside his coat again.

   A thought hit Dean just then, he kept it solely to himself but he knew it would probably bug him for the rest of the night. He is sitting in the same hand that Cas just now used to hold his dick. It was fully cleaned now, moreso then some men, simply because of Cas's background as a scientist. They are second to only doctors for hand cleanliness because of the subject matters they had to deal with. The risk of infections and cross contamination. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Cas liked to keep himself clean head to toe. The nerd seemed like the 'cleanliness next to godliness' kind of guy. Dean wasn't that bad but better then most as well. His reasons were more along the lines of, 'If I don't wash every particle of this vampire blood off my hands now, I could get it in my mouth later on accident and turn into one.'

   Dean counted his lucky stars because of all the new thoughts that were going through his head. If he was going to try something kinky with Cas later on, he didn't want to regret it. But getting dirty with Cas doesn’t seem too unappealing at the moment... Dean turned around as Cas got to the car door and got to ride shotgun again. Each one taking turns because of the long trip. Sam was at the wheel again and Bobby and Balthazar started up a game of actors names that went on for 20 minutes before they started bickering about if birth names could count as well as the actor's chosen names.

   “Roseanne and Roseanne Barr are the same lady! You can't use her twice!”

   “She changed her whole act and career choices when she changed her name, she became like a new person! It counts!”

   “Just choose someone else Balth.” Cas sighed.

   Dean climbed up Castiel's trench coat to look at the two in the backseat. His hands gripped the leather but tried not to puncture it. He knew he'd just have to fix it later. He felt Cas's hand just beneath his feet and reached back one foot at a time to stand on it with full trust. He gave a quick chirp to Cas and then said, 'If you need an 'R' named actor just say, Ronald Reagan and give him the 'R' right back.'

   “Translation?” Balthazar asked. He was still trying to get used to a tiny little dragon walking around the car like it was a jungle gym.

   “I don’t even know how you were able to say that name in dragon speech. Let alone how I was able to understand it so clearly...” Sam mused to his tiny older brother, “I don't know many dragons but I'm pretty sure they didn't study up on American presidents. Oh, sorry, Ronald Reagan.” Sam supplied.

   Balth grinned at Sam then Dean for the suggestion. “Ok, Ronald Reagan, thanks Rango, Bobby, your turn.”

   'Rango?' Dean trilled.

   “It's a CGI movie with a lizard. Johnny Depp does the voice.” Sam replied and shook his head. “That name makes even less sense to be said in dragon speech.”

   “I try not to think about it.” Cas informed and Dean settled backwards into the hand again. “It will get too confusing because if Dean says it when he's feeling something else, it will sound differently.”

   For the next five minutes, Dean chirped, growled, grumbled, and whistled the name 'Rango.' until he howled it and Cas and the others held their ears. The car swerved and Sam jerked it back onto the road again, looking over to Dean and the others to make sure he didn't hurt anyone.

   “Not that bloody BS again!” Balth cursed and aimed a glare at Dean. “Stop trying to make us all deaf.”

   Dean couldn’t help but cower from the loud angry voice. 'My bad.' He silently chirped. 'I didn't know...'

   “It's alright Dean-o. Just leave the howling to the dogs.” Balth said and sat back in his seat again. At the confused look Bobby gave him he just shrugged, “Sounded like an apology.”

   Dean was silent for a little while. He had no idea that he could do anyone any damage besides a pinprick. He carefully schooled his vocal chords and asked Cas behind him, 'Why does it hurt you guys?'

   “I don’t know. Not without some kind of phonic testing equipment. I suspect it has something to do with the pitch and tone synchronizing with our ear drums natural resonance. Everything has a resonance that can be manipulated into its own destruction.”

   Balthazar leaned over the seat and said, “That would make sense. Tiny here's voice should have been less impactful then when he howled before in his big body.”

   “I'm pretty sure there’s some kind of subsonic vibrations at work under his howl that we can't detect audibly but it hurts our ears nonetheless. When other creatures howl it doesn’t hurt us to hear them. They can use the calls to reach other members of their species through great distances. Perhaps that is how dragons find each other?”

   'So now I'm part wolf?' Dean huffed a laugh.

   Cas looked down and kept on translating what Dean says, before admitting, “We don't actually know what you were combined with.”

   Dean sat down and his tail curled around himself. 'Oh.' he didn’t think of that. He was trying for a flippant remark but apparently the others thought it was a real possibility that he was part animal and not just part monster. Fantastic. 'So what do you know about me?'

   “Well, uh, you tell us.” Castiel suggested. The other versions of Dean weren't quite so introspective, they just accepted the body as theirs and rarely questioned it.

   “Do you feel wolfie? Or batty? Or some another animal, mineral, vegetable?” Balth did not hide the humor in his voice, which actually helped alleviate the mini panic attack forming in Dean's mind.

   Cas stroking his side also helped ground him. “It might help if you think about it objectively. Like, sometimes, I feel like I am in the wrong body.”

   'Heh, me too.'

   “Sometimes, when I'm dreaming, I'm flying through the air but it's not at all like superman, it's more like, I’m swimming through the air. Moving my arms like they had wings or flippers, I dunno, something to help move me through the air. My body twists around and I twist in the sky or around door frames in houses. Ever feel like that sometimes?”

   'Are you asking because I have wings?'

   “Either way.”

   'Yeah... I guess. But when I'm dreaming about flying, it's more like falling. Or I can't control where I'm going. Like a human missile.'

   “That doesn’t sound all that pleasant.”

   'Tell me about it.' Dean shuttered, 'Balth was saying I should practice flying when we get there.'

   Cas shrugged, “It wouldn't be a bad idea, but we are not going to force you into it. I can help you. Show you videos of bats flying, birds. Teach you how to use the wings for lift and propulsion through the air.”

   Instead of shooting Cas down right away Dean actually thought about it. He had the faintest of memories of this body having flown before. Long time ago, something about a helicopter chasing them and he tried to take it down. When they get to the cabin, he's going to have to get the full story out of them. A 2 minute sum up isn't cutting it.

   'Ok, Cas, I’ll try. But don’t expect anything from it. I mean,' Dean moved his bandaged wings and could smell some of the special salve under the fabric now that he paid attention to it. He'll have to thank Sam or Bobby later, a part of him happy to be worthy of the expensive medicinal salve. He was curious how they were mending. 'I don't know how far along they are in healing. The left one itches like a bitch.'

   Cas frowned and gently lifted up the left wing between two fingers, Dean sucked in a breath at how huge his fingers were and how careful they were when he began to rub them together, using the bandage to scratch the itch instead of fingernails the size of Dean's entire hand. The whole time, Cas's eyes were zeroed in on the wing and Dean's face, darting back and forth the short distance to judge if he's helping or hurting. The wing twitched a little but the pleased moan that escaped Dean meant he was doing an awesome job. He stopped when it might do more harm then good to keep rubbing and placed it back to Dean's side.

   Dean whined for just a second at the loss of friction on his wings. Who knew that could feel _so good_? 'Dude, anytime you want to do that again, just go with it. I'm ready, willing, waiting. So thanks, and anytime you need your back scratched in that _one spot_ you can't reach? I'm your man.' Dean purred, body still humming with pleasure. 'Promise I wont break skin.' he said almost as an afterthought.

   “That's appreciated, Dean.” Cas murmured.

   The tiny dragon couldn't help but curl up again, taking full advantage of the warmth and love coming from the huge human.

   'Gonna have to figure out how we're gonna start dating. 'Cause I don't know about you, but I wanna start like now.'

   Cas blushed and looked to the others. Sam couldn’t hide his grin fast enough but had the decency not to comment on it. He wished they could converse in private but that wont happen for another half hour's driving. He looked to the odometer and then clock, trying to busy his mind in thinking about how many minutes it will take until either they get there or Dean breaks and starts making out with Cas again in front of everyone.

   Sam thought he'd seen it all, but when his miniaturized dragon brother licked a cryptozoologist on the lips... that was something else. Heartwarming and a little odd. If Dean and Cas didn't give two shits, then he decided it wasn't worth giving a shit either. Dean may not remember every single detail of his new life, but there was enough bad in it to need something good and guilt free in it. And Sam was positive that the two were not going to wait to have the same number of appendages or pounds. That's as far as he let his mind wander before he started thinking about Martha Stewart trimming a bonsai tree to distract himself.

   Meanwhile, Balth and Bobby went right back to their actor's names game, but with a twist, only actors from foreign countries. Balth hadn’t considered the salvage yard hunter to know that many, but there was a lot he was learning about him now. Bobby, likewise was determined not to let his first impressions of the English fellow determine how he treats him. Standing up to Sam also helped in his opinion, because he did it the right way. With words and not fists, as the boys are prone to do.

   “Dmitri Krushnic.” Bobby said grinning.

   “Who the hell is that?”

   “A Russian actor. He was in a few movies abroad but also an American flick, 'Stonehenge Apocalypse.' and bit parts here and there.”

   “Oh! I remember that!” Balth crowed with laughter, “IT WAS A ROBOT HEAD!” He quoted and laughed harder at Castiel's expression. “Oh come on Cassie, you liked it.”

   “It was highly scientifically inaccurate.” He stated while looking like he swallowed lemon juice.

   “He's just upset because the only reason we watched it was because someone said the main lead scientist fellow looked like him.” Balthazar explained.

   “He does not.” Cas pouted. Dean was looking up at him and trying to figure out if he'd ever heard of that movie. Cas grinned and whispered, “I'm much cuter.”

   Dean grinned so wide that all of his fangs showed. 'Damn right! I got the sexy scientist!' he announced loudly and Sam translated reluctantly. Knowing that Dean wanted to proclaim it to the world. It was the least Sam could do for him.

   “Soon as we get there, I'm downloading that horrible movie and we can judge for ourselves who is sexier.” Balth teased. “Speaking of,” Balth then switched to a high pitched whine, “Are we there yet?”

   Sam sighed dramatically and said, “NO.”

   Bobby's child voice was as disturbing as it was hilarious, “But I'm _booored_!”

   “Play another game of slutty foreign accents.” Sam bit out, playing the part _too_ well.

   'Thaaas nawt faaare, Casssiel aas da sexieest voyce e'er.' Dean tried for cockney drunken slut and failed spectacularly. Failing so horribly it might actually come full circle to a win.

   Cas stared with wide eyes at the little dragon. “I still don’t know how you do that.”

   'See wha' ey meen?' Dean continued. 'Sexy beas'tie right 'ere!' pointing to Castiel's wide chest and climbed up his front and licked Cas's lips quickly before perching on Cas's shoulder and the back of the seat. He leaned against Castiel's neck and rubbed the underside of his jaw along the larger one slightly above him. Being careful to keep the sharp bits away from the prickly beard scruff and skin wasn't easy when all he wants to do is wrap himself around that rumbling sex rough voice box. 'Is naw fare. Cain't contayn mah anymal instincts!'

   “Oh my God that was terrible. Don't make me turn this car around.” Sam threatened.

   “I'm sorry, what the hell was he trying to do?” Balth broke character to lean over the seat in front of him.

   “Castiel apparently.” Bobby chuckled. “Boy, you keep that bedroom stuff behind locked doors alright?” Bobby directed at Dean and heard a dragon's equivalent of a wolf whistle.

   Dean's huffing laugh stopped suddenly when flashing lights up ahead got his attention. Sam spotted it first but it didn't click in his head right away to panic. 'Uh.. guys?' he lifted up his centimeter wide hand and pointed to the line up of cop cars and military vehicles ahead as if anyone else could see the index finger. 'Shit... _shit_!' he dove off of Cas's shoulder into his lap and paced around for a second, trying to think of a plan but coming up blank.

   Castiel's hands came over him, covering him head to tail and pulling him closer to his stomach. To Dean, the scents of panic in the car from the others were overridden by the scent Cas was giving off. General feeling of, 'Don't you fucking mess with us.' That was reassuring for him as he let Cas hold him close. He would give anything right now to be back to being 30 feet of intimidation but now was as threatening as a ticked off rabbit.

   “Stay calm everyone.” Bobby instructed from behind Sam's seat. “We don't know what they're after. Could be just a speed trap.”

   “All the same, we should probably get him under wraps.” Balth spoke up, bringing them out of their trance at the line up of cars being inspected. The highway that they were on was fairly busy but the only cars being stopped were black ones. That little fact was not lost on anyone in the black Chevy Impala. Dealing with back roads cops sometimes meant a lack of following the law to the letter.

   Sam squinted out of the window, “They’re searching them. Shit! Should have taken more back streets.”

   “They are probably searching them as well.” Bobby stated. “Castiel, hand him over back here. Slowly.”

   Cas gave an apologetic look to Dean from beneath his hands before he was cupping him and bringing the little body up and over the bench seat. Bobby took him in his hands and marveled at the miniscule size of Dean for a moment. The first time he ever held Dean above ground in either form. A wave of protectiveness hit him and he just knew that anyone holding a life like this in their hands felt that way. Bobby gingerly brought him down to his own lap and looked around the car for just a moment before he had an idea. “Balthazar, that panel was pulled off when Dean was a baby dragon when he got impatient on the trip from the woods to my house. It should be loose enough for him to slip inside.” Bobby looked down to Dean and quirked an eyebrow. “You good with that, son?”

   Dean looked over to Balthazar's hands that were testing the stability of the door's panel and finding the weak spot. He opened it up a few inches and nodded down to Dean. “It's big enough, plenty of hand holds.”

   Dean nodded and said with a bit of forced confidence, 'Yeah, should be piece of cake, I know what baby looks like inside and out. No problem.'

   Sam translated as he was pulling over along with the other black cars. The cop he drove past didn’t see Dean because he was underneath Bobby's arm at that moment. Dean froze at the contact and looked up warily as the arm was lifted and replaced by two different hands. He felt like a 'hot potato' as he was passed from one person to another and now it the car door's turn next. Balth didn’t remark on the situation, knowing the seriousness of it and kept his hands steady as Dean switched to one nervous hand and the other opened up the panel again. It was a tight fit but Dean was able to scramble inside, finding purchase on the long screws that went between the metal framework and the panel to keep it in place. Dean busied himself with cataloging what all he needed to fix up the dented and cracked panel and how long it would take to do each section to keep his mind off of the fact that the car was slowing to a stop. Balthazar kept it open a crack while Dean tried to find better places to put his feet and wings.

   Balthazar was about to ask more questions, but Sam sent him a quick look telling him to keep his mouth shut and ask questions later. Dean had a little difficulty finding a good stable perch to hang on. Just barely getting settled before the door panel was loudly popped back into place and he was in darkness. The rumble of the car and muffled voices outside were unnerving, but less so then being discovered by the local PD.

   The line of cars crept forward at a snails pace as each car got the once over. Sam wordlessly opened up the glove box and handed Bobby the cigar box full of fake Id's. Bobby was trying to find the right badges to use for this situation. Uncovering an old one of his, and one for Sam he felt a little better as he slipped the box and the rest of them into a hidden compartment under the driver's seat. Sam removed the trunks key from the keyring with the practiced ease of a hunter that had to hide the fact that they had a supernatural arsenal in the trunk. The key went into its hiding spot and Sam gave the front a once over for anything that could be seen as a weapon.

   Bobby tapped Cas's shoulder and looked to Balth next, “Let Sam and I do the talking alright?”

   “Don't pretend to be FBI!” Cas whispered urgently.

   Bobby quirked an eyebrow and frowned, “And why not?”

   “Sam and Dean were being hunted by the FBI for impersonating one of their officers, the car was identified as an old black muscle car, and judging by that line up of newer black cars that they have on the other side of the road, they are looking for _Sam and Dean_!”

   “So, not the dragon we have stowed away?”

   “I don't know.” Cas admitted.

   All of them were on edge as the line up of cars got to the one in front of them.

   “So who should we go as?” Bobby looked ahead of him to Sam who was at a loss.

   A metallic tap on the driver's side door was all the warning they had that several officers were singling them out of the line up. “Pull over to the side of the road and turn off your car please.”

   “What's the problem Officer?”

   “Pull over and turn off the car.” The armed officer stated firmly and then shown in a flashlight into the interior as two more officers joined in on the other side. Also shining in flashlights. Bobby frowned and nodded at the officer, slipping the fake FBI badges into the seat cushions as far as they'll go as he rocked his body out of the car, pretending to need the extra movements to move his old body. He also waved a hand for Balthazar to hand him his cane and he leaned on it heavily to keep up with the act and to hide the fact that it hid a long silver sword inside. Balthazar hesitated before opening up his door. Praying to God that he wasn’t about to maim Dean with the internal movements, he did it as slowly as possible. Not hearing any crunching, or wailing sounds, he sighed in relief and let the door stay open so the cops wouldn’t have to swing it open again.

   Cas did as instructed but refused to peel his eyes from the rear passenger side door that hid his new boyfriend. Not even an elbow jab from Sam would deter his glare at the officers closest to the door.

   The four of them were lined up and standing about 20 feet from the car, being watched by an officer as three others inspected the car, when they got to the trunk, they couldn't unlock it.

   One of them went up to the driver and Sam squared his jaw. “Open the trunk, Sir.”

   “I'm sorry, I can't. It's an old car and we've never been able to open it. I bought it from some junkyard a couple of months back. I was going to go to the locksmith when I got some more money together.”

   Cas was surprised how naturally Sam lied to the police. Even they started to believe it. A few officers went to the trunk now and none of them could pry it open. When a crowbar was introduced Bobby got pissed.

   “What do you think you're doing? If you damage that lock any further I will sue your asses for destruction of property!”

   “You could be hiding drugs in there, we are checking everyone, not just you.”

   “So you're looking for drug runners?”

   “What is the probable cause for thinking we have drugs?”

   “You haven't read our rights.”

   “Am I free to go?” Balth had seen some videos online on how to properly address police officers that pull you over for no reason. “Why are we being stopped?”

   Bobby asked the officer next, “Are we being detained?”

   The barrage of questions from the four of them brought the other car owners attention as well. Soon they started voicing their outrage at being held against their will for no reason. Sam grinned and in the commotion, signed to the others, 'keep it up.'

   Bobby signed next, 'good in 10' as he nodded in the direction of a group of college boys that were getting rowdier by the second. There were only a dozen officers here, and they managed to fool 10 cars into stopping for an illegal search and seizure. They should have stayed in the car and asked the same few questions over and over that would have gotten them out of this mess. “Am I being detained.” was now Castiel's new catchphrase, while, “Are we free to go?” is Balth's. Sam thankfully remembered a bit of info from his lawyer days and was soon interrogating the cop that was in front of him. Bobby started up a litany of, “Are you refusing to allow us to go on our way?” At every insistence that the officer made that they needed to answer the questions.

   Finally, the college kids started a brawl and every officer on hand was needed to keep them from involving the other upset car owners. The four of them slipped back into the Impala, Cas snagging the seat Dean was at and Sam pulled out into traffic smoothly. Any faster would draw the officers attention their way again. He turned into a side street the second he was able and they all gave a collective sigh of relief.

   Cas placed his fingers along the panel and Balthazar leaned over him to indicate what spot to pull at. “Dean? Are you alright?” his voice was laced with fear that he was injured somehow. Dean grunted a little as he tried to make it back to the opening in the panel.

   'Hold your hand in here... yeah, forward an inch... got it.' Dean grunted as his feet grabbed onto Cas's fingers and he slid sideways towards the opening, Cas eased his bandaged wings back out and only suffered a few scratches when Dean scrambled for a better grip. Cas brought him up to his face, kissing his forehead and the side of his neck, whispering apologies at him.

   'No problem, Cas. Just got a closer look at what I gotta fix in the future.' Dean chirped and gave a kiss back to the corner of Cas's mouth. He couldn't explain why he kept on sneaking his tongue out at Cas, maybe knowing that his fangs would hurt if he kissed too hard. The urge to give a love nip was very strong but the taste of blood that would come after was enough of a turn off for him.

   The hot breath from Cas's mouth made Dean melt at the sensations. 'Damn, Cas...' he purred and thought about seriously cutting off every spike he has so Cas doesn’t have to be so careful. Lust and need were peeking out from the edges of his mind and he could sense that Cas was feeling it too. 'Wait till we're alone, Babe.'

   Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a second, glancing into the rear view mirror at Cas cupping his tiny older brother up to his mouth. Cas closed his mouth, kissed him chastely and nodded. A flush of embarrassment hit both of them as Dean coughed to distract himself and settled down into the hands again. With a bob of his head indicating that he wanted to be closer to the lap. That was a mistake though as Dean's next cough was one of shock at the tent Cas was starting to pitch. Dean didn’t know if he wanted to get closer to it or farther. Thing was easily as long as he was tall. Maybe longer if Cas doesn’t get distracted right quick. Cas's eyes were clenched shut and his lips were moving. He was trying like mad to distract himself. Dean frowned and swore to make it up to Cas later for this. He dug in every one of his claws into Cas's leg through the jeans and was nearly bucked off of the lap for his troubles.

   The stunned and slightly pained look in Castiel's eyes hurt Dean almost as much as he hurt Cas's leg.

   'Sorry!' he chirped loudly. 'I sneezed!' and retracted the nails again.

   Cas frowned and said, “Bless you.” and trying to be cunning about it, lifted Dean's hands in one hand and scooted him back onto the other. Keeping the claws away from his thighs. It occurred to Cas a moment later why Dean 'sneezed' and he looked down to Dean to wink at him. The gratitude coming from him indicated to Dean that it's alright and appreciated.

   The road was bumpy as hell from years of four wheelers going through the woods, huge potholes made worse with every passing truck and the weather. Sam had a really hard time avoiding the larger ones and would hit 5 small ones instead. Dean couldn’t help but hold on tight as he really was threatened to be bumped off balance or sent flying. Cas finally held onto Dean's middle with one hand and let his 4 legs dangle on either side of his palm. Hands and feet flexing in the air on their own as Dean started to feel seasick with the movements.

   'Sammyyy' he moaned. 'Gonna throw up... seriously, are we there yet?' Dean's voice sounded as woozy as he looked. Long neck loosing height as it started to swing his head at the end like a ball at the end of a chain. Cas used his other hand to steady it, but since the whole car was still in a dipping and swaying motion, it only did so much. Sam was only going 5 mph or so but it didn't help because to Dean, it was still pretty fast. 'Shouldn't have eaten that whole hamburger patty.' he rumbled.

   “Sam?” Cas sounded worried now.

   “Almost there, the clearing is just ahead. Hang in there.” Sam said over his shoulder, hitting a large pothole when he wasn't looking, and Cas's hands clenched around the little body just enough to tip Dean over the edge.

   “Shit!” Cas exclaimed and opened up his door quickly for Dean to throw up outside. Sam hit the breaks and the sound of Dean vomiting was enough for Sam to let the car rest there for a minute. Not wanting to hurt Cas who looked like he wanted to get up and out himself.

   Cas took a moment between Dean's heaves to exit the car and walk a few feet away, shutting the door with his foot. He eased Dean to the forest floor after clearing a spot with his shoe. Dean wobbled a little and his back arched again. Throwing up more of the meat patty from lunch. It looked like it hurt like hell. Cas could see the lumps travel up Dean's neck and his jaw widen for the masticated food to be expelled out one hearty lump at a time. He nearly lost his lunch as well at the painful wet sounds Dean was making. Even though Dean was little, this spell powered ability to understand him amplified his speech so even at this distance of over 5 feet above him, Cas and Sam were gifted with the 'Hurk's and 'Ohmaygawwgarrgh's. Before Sam rolled up his window with a grimace.

   After a moment of heavy breathing, Dean seemed to be alright. The car was left idling and Cas turned to address them, seeing the cabin only a few hundred feet away. “I got him. You can go park it closer.” Cas motioned for a spot he could see off to the side. No other cars were around so Rufus wasn't there. It was unclear if he was planning on meeting them there or not.

   The car kept on crawling forward, hitting only half of the potholes, and Dean sighed in relief. 'Thanks. The exhaust was getting to me.'

   “Oh, apologies.” Cas knelt down and saw Dean wave a feeble hand.

   'No problem.' he panted a little more and saw something in the pile of sick. 'Is that? Is that a _pie pan_?' Cas's laugh was spontaneous and contagious. 'Wish I got some pie.' he pouted. 'DD and Dragon get all the fun.'

   “DD?”

   'Dragon Dean. Shorthand. Not gonna keep calling him hybrid or whatever you guys call him. And Dragon is a dick.'

   “I beg to disagree. Neither of your other sides are all that bad.” Dean shrugged and let Cas gently snake his fingers under Dean's middle again and very slowly brought him up to chest height. All the while half expecting the same freakout that Dean had the first time he was picked up. Dean had his eyes half closed and his head turned towards Cas's chest. “I got you.” Cas secured both hands around Dean and slowly made his way towards the cabin.

   'Not so fast... sorry. My stomach isn't settled yet.' he curled around himself and sighed. After a few minutes, he patted the thumb above his head. 'Ok, better now.'

   By that time, the others had already unpacked the Impala and were heard setting things up inside. Lights went on after the generator was turned on from outside. Sam waved towards them and understood their slow progression and indicated that he was going to scout the area. Cas nodded at him and kept on creeping his way through the long grass and saplings taking the most clear direct route there. He finally made it to the porch where Balthazar was sitting on the steps with a wet washcloth and a shot glass of water.

   Cas eased himself down to sit on a step above him, and rested his occupied hands in his lap. Balth shuffled down to the last of the 4 steps and looked over to Dean who was roughly eye level now. “How are you feeling?” All snark and sass and sarcasm gone from his voice. Dean uncurled himself and his red rimed eyes looked at Balthazar's a foot away.

   He lifted up a hand and teeter tottered it, 'I just gotta get my sea legs.' then stood on shaky feet and peered over the kneecaps to what Balthazar had in his hands. 'Is that for me?' with a little grin. The shot glass was laid on the porch and Dean was placed in front of it. He sat down and stared at it for a few seconds. 'Ok, so, does he like just shove his mouth in and suck it up? Or like a dog? Or do you think I can lift this and drink like a normal person?'

   “Well, he kinda...” Cas floundered, since the dragon's water trough was pretty tall, they couldn't actually see if it was nose underwater or tongue lapping. “Whatever works best for you.”

   Balth gave his two cents, “Lord knows I've drank plenty of things in plenty of different ways and plenty of different places. Raoul's belly button Tequila Rose is by far my _favorite_.” Balth sighed wistfully into the sky. “That boy had a exquisite set of abs. Perfect for belly shots. Of course you two could come up with things even more imaginative, I bet.”

   Cas squinted at him and Dean chuckled. At some point he's gonna have to explore this body of his and it might as well be while doing something fun with his new boyfriend. Ok, not thinking about the heavy stuff. Baby steps. Stomach is too sore and head too dizzy to think about long term. Even though that's what he's hoping for with Cas. It's easier to think about this and talk about it when he's not currently tasting flammable bile in his mouth.

   Dean spat out the remaining bits of half digested food from where his wisdom teeth had been and lowered his face to the surface of the water. It smelled a little off, just like he remembered it at this cabin. He attempted to pucker his lips to suck it into his mouth. That seemed like the easiest way to do it since lifting up the barrel sized shot glass was depending on far too many motor skills then he's capable of at the moment. Bingo. Thank _God_. He simply had to dip his head lower when the water level in the shot glass lowered. He lifted up his head again for air and gave a sincere grin to Balthazar for being so thoughtful.

   The wet washcloth was laid out next to him and he laid on his side so he could use his hands to wipe his mouth and face. Only being able to do so much, Cas came to the rescue and stuck a finger into the washcloth and used it to rub away the grime and dirt from behind Dean's head first, down his neck and then the finger moved to a cleaner part of the washcloth to clean off other parts of him. It should have been awkward as hell but Balth had left already and it felt kinda nice. Dean couldn't reach very far on his own because of the bandaged up wings at his sides.

   'Before you get too engrossed in the sponge bath, can we take it inside?' Dean turned to look up at the looming cabin and had a pang of fear hit him unexpectedly. The enormity of just the porch and front door was enough to steal his breath away yet again. It was hard for him to think back to the time when he could just turn the knob and open up that door with ease. Now he had to ask for help to do anything at all. And not only that, but someone to hold his hand as well. He had no doubt that being left alone to his own devices inside the cabin without literally _everyone_ knowing where he was, would be worse then being carted around like a purse dog.

   Cas saw the wide eyed silent stare at the door and decided to let Dean come to terms with reality again. It can't be easy for him. After all, no matter what size Dean is, everyone else had the luxury of staying the same size with everything already built for humans, not for 30 foot or 6 inch tall dragons. Dean isn't even in his rightful body, the whole situation has got to be stressful, but Dean is taking it all like a seasoned hunter. Roll with the punches. Still, in his whole hunting career, Cas is pretty sure nothing even remotely like this has happened to the man. Let alone, being _shrunk_ and in a different body. That's why he decided to make things easier on Dean, but also keep him sharp and not too dependent on them. If something were to happen to the four humans, Dean would have to know how to look after himself in this weakened state.

   He would help Dean learn how to use his natural defenses ASAP. He leaned forward to get to his feet and walked up the stairs. Dean's look of fear was aimed at the massive living thing that shot up into the sky right next to him. He scuttled back a few steps, not expecting such a huge movement punctuated by the rush of air being displaced. Thankfully Cas took a moment to just stand there on the porch next to Dean, not facing him, but close enough to deter wild animals from attacking. Dean looked up and up to the right hand that hung at Cas's side, sleeve looking like a tunnel from this point of view, and then took a few steps away to see his face. He was trembling again and cursed himself for that reaction every time something big moved. He waited for Cas to do or say something but he just stood there silently.

   'Uh.. what's going on Cas? Did you hear something?'

   “Hmm?” Cas hummed and peered down at Dean. “No, just waiting for you. No rush.”

   'Oh.' Dean looked towards the cabin again and started for it. 'I guess we can go inside?'

   “Sure.” Cas took a step forward and the earthquake in the floorboards sent Dean skittered away like a startled deer. Another step had the human in front of the door that swung open easily for him. Cas then looked down and back at Dean who gathered up his thoughts and courage again and had to trot to catch up to him. He reached the threshold of the door and had to jump over the bump that separated the inside wood from the coarse outside porch. The rubber sealant for the door was cracked and warped and Dean could see in high def every single crack and stain in the wooden floor inside. The furniture towered over him like buildings and Cas waited for him to go in far enough to close the door again.

   “Dean's on the floor.” Cas announced and Balth and Bobby looked at him then down to see Dean sitting there with his head tilted up at them. The others nodded their acknowledgment and went back to checking on what provisions were in the cabin. Dean walked slowly into the living room and got to the rug where everyone should have deposited their shoes but didn't. Dean huffed at that, Rufus would have sent him out to collect firewood if he was caught wearing his shoes inside. A few old boots were there, looking like they hadn’t been worn in decades. A broken umbrella was propped up in the coat tree stand with a few coats hanging there like nothing Dean had ever seen before. His mind was having trouble keeping up with the vastly different point of view again and Cas coughed lightly to get Dean out of his trance of looking up at the coats.

   Dean got to his feet instantly and recognized the long couch. He figured that was a good destination and started the long walk over there. The tall carpet kept tripping him up since his fingers and toes kept on getting stuck in the loops. He cursed several times and felt a rush of air behind him from something huge falling. He jerked back but his hand was stuck in a loop and he landed sprawled out as Cas crouched down behind him.

   “Did you need some assistance?”

   Dean jerked his hand free and cursed under his breath at the carpet. 'Yes.' he said testily and waited for the hands to scoop him up again. When they didn’t come he jerked his head up and saw a strange expression on Cas's face. 'What?' he nearly snapped.

   “No one is judging you, Dean.”

   'What?' he asked again but this time actually asking instead of accusing.

   “No one here is judging you. We understand that this is difficult. We may tease but that's simply because you're one of us. Not because we are trying to be cruel.”

   Dean didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t really expecting them to outright pick on him, but felt like it was something that was inevitable. It was very hard to describe. They sat and stared at each other for a few seconds before Cas stood up briefly only to settle back down onto the floor again in front of the couch, using it like a backrest. His legs carefully stretched out towards Dean who saw his head just over the toes of his tall shoes. Cas was giving him a human highway through the carpet trap. Dean made his way to the shoes and then just past them towards Cas's ankles. It wasn’t quite so high there and he scrambled up to the ridge. Balancing easily on the part just above the feet and looking towards the knees then waist and then the place where he'd like to spend the rest of his night. On Cas's chest where it was warm and secure. Damn. When did he become such a sap?!

   Dean walked along the worn jeans and had a little smile on his lips at the thought of Cas wearing his old cloths like they belonged to him. He wondered what it would be like to wear Cas's stupid coat once he's all human-ified. Would Cas get this warm fuzzy feeling too? Or threaten to beat him up like he did Balthazar when Balth suggested he ditch the trench for something better. What could be better then the trench? 'Bet both of us could fit in there, all snug and warm.' Dean wondered out loud, thinking about both of their naked bodies spooning up in the coat after a _great_ night. He pursed his lips shut when he realized that Cas heard that. 'Nothing!' he hastily said and picked up his pace up towards Cas's thighs.

   He stopped abruptly when he got to the middle of his left thigh. He has two options, walk towards that more stable middle of the waist, or try and claw his way up the side of it. Why did Cas have to be so fit and trim? If he was wider then he could just keep on trucking up the cloths towards his shoulder then the couch. But no, he had to have the fittest scientist with hip bones that could cut steel. Abs that he could sink his fingers in and pecks that he could get stuck between. Dean shook his head. Ok, Cas was fit, but not _that_ fit. From where Dean was standing though, he lucked out big time with baggin' this fine specimen of man.

   Cas was not privy to Dean's internal penthouse forum commentary and just quirked an eyebrow at him. “Problem?”

   'You're wearing too many cloths.' Dean blurted out and gaped at himself, horrified. _'I did not just say that._ '

   Castiel's grin appeared suddenly and he lifted up a hand to wipe off his mouth and to subtly check and see if anyone heard or understood what Dean said. So far, Bobby and Balthazar were arguing on what to make for dinner and how to cook it with the seasonings they have on hand.

   “Your Rufus Tanner has a marvelous pantry.” Balthazar praised in the other room.

   Castiel took another look around and remembered that Sam was outside making sure that the area was secure. After being witness to that several times, he knew that he and Dean had at least 6 minutes left before Sam came back in. Something the hunters said earlier about protective wards and sigils that needed to be redrawn or checked.

   Castiel's mind wondered what would happen if they were in a different room with the door closed so no one could hear them. The rooms appeared to be far enough away from the kitchen and living areas. Cas bowed his head a little and whispered with a tingle running up his spine. “I can do something about that.”

   Dean lost all control of his jaw as it hung there and flopped a few times. No fucking way. 'Cas... are you? Are you saying?'

   “I'm saying we need to be quick about this. I used to take yoga classes with Balth.” he couldn’t believe he was really saying this, _suggesting_ it! He caught himself abruptly, and unlike Dean, he couldn’t tell what the other was thinking or feeling through sense of smell. “I'm sorry... uhm.. only if you're....” Cas cursed himself. He probably read that phrase wrong. Dean probably just said he had too many cloths on because he was still wearing his coat and the suits jacket while inside. He didn’t have to wear so many layers now that the fireplace was going to get the chill out of the air.

   All doubt that he misread or heard went out the window when Dean seductively growled at him. 'I'd race you but I'm pretty sure you'd win and be done by the time I made it there.' he then looked at the slowly raising bulge next to him and gave a shit eating grin, 'Or we could see how good you can hold your tongue with the others in the kitchen if I doooo this?' he taunted and took a few kneading steps onto Castiel's crotch.

   The knees went up and Dean was roughly pushed into Castiel's belly button before he found his world shifting backwards and flailing into Cas's hands behind him. The room dropped down from sight suddenly and Dean quickly shut his eyes to keep himself from freaking out. The thought of Cas rushing them off to the bedroom was enough for him to put everything else aside. Not to mention that euphoric rush of lust that was now shoving itself at Dean from every single angle. 'I am in way over my head!' he whispered to himself, but kinda liked the idea.

   The usually deep voice was now tinged with a prepubescent squeak as Cas said, “I'm going to go set up our room.”

   Balth and Bobby leaned over from the kitchen into the dinning room to see Cas disappear into the smaller bedroom. They gave each other a look which conveyed a whole conversation. Summed up with, “We got dibs on the other room.” Which would leave either Sam sleeping on the couch or floor. Because no way in hell would Sam sleep in the same room with Dean and Cas if they were going to consummate their union before Dean was even tall enough to go on an amusement park ride.

   Bobby fixed his hat and went back to preparing the potatoes, “At least they're both consenting human adults on the _inside_.”

   Balth just nodded his agreement. “Isn't that what they say? It's what's on the inside that counts?” He wondered if Dragon Dean would get jealous that Dean got all the fun. “Shit!”

   Bobby raised an eyebrow at him.

   “Dean switches personalities when he's stressed!”

   Bobby's hands dropped and both of them stared at the bedroom door. “You tell them.”

   “Hell no! You do it! You're Dean's pseudo-dad!”

   “And you're Castiel's best friend!” Bobby bit back at him.

   Both of them looked out of the window and yelled, “Sam!”

   The sounds of furniture moving in the other locked room made them both get back to loudly making dinner, hoping to drown out the noises to come. “Think we could get him a hamster ball to keep him out of trouble?”

 

 

 Winner! here is your pic of Dragon Dean cuddling with Cas!

## AscendeadMaster

 

Winner! here is your pic of Dragon Dean stalking a ladybug!

####  [warmsme2theCocklesofmyheart](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://archiveofourown.org/users/warmsme2theCocklesofmyheart/pseuds/warmsme2theCocklesofmyheart)

 

Winner! here is your pic of Dragon Dean carrying around the Impala like a football. this was the hardest one to do and I formally apologize for how bad it is! If anyone else can do it better I would really like to see it too! I can't do manmade objects and Dean is standing on his hind legs = really hard for me!

[HartsNblueyes](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://archiveofourown.org/users/HartsNblueyes/pseuds/HartsNblueyes)

 

I am working on the other ones now, just had these done yesterday :)   
This one belongs a few chapters ago, I was too busy writing to finish drawing it. I used a silver toned colored pencil for the melted metal on his skin and it reflected like mad with the camera!

 

Now back to work! I don't know when I'll have another free day to get the rest done but I will! if you have more recommendations that don't involve too crazy of positions or man made things I'm all ears!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I usually don't preoccupy myself with bathroom breaks on a normal basis but, come on... how is it that no fanfics address it? Do the characters just hold it for a few days? I try to strive for reality :D  
> and the line about Sam distracting himself by thinking about Martha Steward trimming a bonsai tree is lovingly stolen from one of my fav fanfic series by Silver Ruffian. Dog Eat Dog, where Dean finds out he's the human half of the trickster god Coyote.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3417933/1/Dog-Eat-Dog  
> Chapter title from the awesome song, ' Little Lion Man' by Mumford and sons. Again, it's one of those songs where I wanted to use the entire lyrics for the chapter title! Go listen to it, I'll wait...
> 
> Contest ended! congrats to those that won! all the pics will be up shortly.  
> There's also two references to our Supreme Overlord Misha Collins. A pic of Dragon Dean of your choice for the first three people who guesses both without looking it up!


	24. Casa Erotica 8: Sexy Cabana Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, the moment like, 5 of you have been waiting for, and the rest have probably been dreading...  
> (drumroll)  
> THE SEX SCENE!!!!  
> (wild applause and *both* types of moans)
> 
> There is sex here, the whole damned chapter FYI. Smut and filth. You do not have to read it at all, the story line doesn't hinge on literally anything that happens in this chapter, other then the fact that they did the do.
> 
> I am a little nervous about putting this chapter up, it took ages to write because as an asexual virgin, I don't have any personal experience to draw from. Nearly all of my 'research' was from other fanfics. A pic will be up as soon as I figure out how to draw it, it's actually part inspiration for a section of the chapter, one of the winners from the last chapter wanted an R rated pic of Dean and Cas and I'm like, that sounds cool, I'm there. 
> 
> Last thing, I do apologize for the lateness of this chapter due to work/Christmas/work/new years/ and even more work thrown in to spice it up.

Chapter 24:

Casa Erotica 8: Sexy Cabana Boy

 

 

   Sam was patrolling the grounds and checking out the hidden wards on the wide circle of trees around the clearing, when a sudden wave of lust hit him between the eyes like a truck. He actually staggered on his feet for a few seconds and caught himself just as the handgun he was carrying was about to drop from his shaking hands. He looked around himself and to the house with wide eyes, panting into the chilly air. He could feel his face flush hotly along with his nethers. “What the fuck was _that_!?” He breathed harshly and shook his head a little to gain some composure. Man, he felt like a horny teenager all of the sudden. His mind retraced it's steps and he wondered what in the hell he thought was so _interesting_ because literally, all he was doing was looking at symbols on tree trunks for the better part of half an hour.

   Dean would have made some kind of witty comment about his little brother getting off while staring at a 'woody', but... wait. _Dean_.

   “Oh no... that's right... the _spell_. I can feel Dean's strongest emotions. Oh God... this is so fucking _wrong_.” He tried to stay standing but had to take a seat on one of the tree stumps in the area. He glared at the house but his skin was flush and sweating. “You suck, Dean. Freakin' pervert can't even wait...” he wanted to yell to the house for Dean to keep his pants on but that was more fitting to yell at Cas because it was _Cas_ wearing _Dean's pants_. Dean was always naked. A fact he shoved back into the corner of his mind again. Not thinking about it made it go away.

   That new wave of nervous desire though... that was coming in loud and clear. Really, it was no wonder why Dean would be feeling that.

   He was just grateful that he couldn’t hear what was going on inside the house and vowed to keep this little nugget of horror to himself. He did consider putting a stop to it, especially since now he's hearing not just Bobby but Balthazar shouting his name from the house in unison. Cowards. They didn't want to deal with Dean so it's up to him. He shook his head adamantly. “No freakin' way. I walked in on Dean and the double mint twins once, I will not walk in on him again. _ESPECIALLY_ not when Dean's not even _human_. Oh shit, now I'm getting other emotions tangled in with the lecherous feelings. _Dammit_!”

   Sam stomped about on his rounds, he'd already checked nearly all of the wards and sigils and traps. He tried to think of what else he could do out here to kill some time and decided to set up some animal traps as well. Partly for food, but mostly because woodland critters like raccoons could pose as dangerous to his tiny older brother. Hell, a house cat could probably take him down. Ok, so, lots of traps or animal deterrents. He paused in his plans at the lapse in emotions, and didn't feel much of anything at the moment and wondered if it was just a passing phase. Sam was thankful that only the most intense emotions came through, he didn't need a constant update on what Dean thinks or feels every second of the day. He wondered if Cas got it though... he did seem to be more connected to Dean. It's probably because he actually finished the whole potion and Sam accidentally spat out a small bit. He wasn't sure if he would have spat out a little bit _more_ to keep Dean's emotions at bay and had them connected just enough to understand what he says and wants to convey. Before he could think about it anymore, he felt another tickle in the back of his head. It was probably the chill in the night air.

   He got to the shed and felt another wave of euphoric bliss hit him like a baseball bat, and a thrum of desire underneath it all soothed the blow. “Ok. _That's it_!” Sam shut the creaking wooden door to the extremely multi-purposed tool shed and thought of Martha Stewart and the poor bonsai tree that she was just hacking away at. He then angrily said, “If I'm stuck with these feelings and emotions I'm going to make them _my own_!” he declared determinedly to no one in particular, and vigorously thought of some nameless brunette lady and what lascivious things they could do together. He liked them short and feisty and he figured that the animal traps could wait till he's done shedding these massive amounts of pent up pent house thoughts in his head.

   Dean wasn't the only Winchester with a cold streak, so it didn't take too long. Sam didn't want to disgrace the memory of his lost love just to get his rocks off, so he thought of that petite brunette witch that gave them the supplies for some of their spells. What was her name again? Ruby something? Either way, she would do.

   Sam was just itching to get this over with and hid himself away in the shed and tried not to think about the origin of these emotions. No one was the wiser and the forgotten part of his mind had to applaud his brother for the sheer duration. A memory of his big brother Dean some years ago cheering him on for getting that curator chick from the haunted painting hunt. Dean was happy to see Sam happy, not for his little bro banging some chick. This notion had Sam pause for a moment. He was happy that Dean was happy with Cas. Hell, he could feel it just as easily as his own with this link. Dean wasn't really in it for the sex right now... he could feel it there, but beneath all that, it was like Dean was feeling this night was special. Like he had been waiting for it.

   And there's the lust again. Fuck.

   A mental litany of 'RubyRubyRuby' brought him back to the reason he was sequestering himself in the shed. To be frank, he never finished so hard in years thanks to the emotional boost coming from the cabin. He also adamantly refused to admit that the overwhelming bliss practically had a name attached to it and it was certainly not Ruby's.

 

   The door to the rear bedroom shut behind Castiel and he hoped that the loud bang of it didn't alert the others in the distant kitchen to anything wrong, and would leave them alone for a little while. For good measure, he gingerly set Dean down onto one of the twin beds and held up a finger for Dean to wait a moment. He then assessed the weight of the dresser and shoved that in front of the door. He turned around to Dean and was glad that Dean didn't look worried that he was being essentially trapped in this room with no possible way of escape on his own. Unless there was a mouse hole somewhere... his eyes left Dean to look at the corners of the room. It was far from clean and there probably were rats and mice everywhere.

   This could pose a problem for Dean.

   “You're sleeping with me tonight.” He said with some protective conviction.

   Dean started huff-laughing at the straight forwardness of it. 'I thought that was the point.' He grinned up at Cas.

   Castiel flushed and paced the room a little. Now that he was _here_ , _alone_ , with _Dean_ , he was more nervous about what Dean could be expecting. Castiel was certain that Dean wasn't pulling his leg for suggesting this, and about to shout, 'gotcha!' at him at any moment. The feelings coming through their link were hard to disentangle from his own towards Dean. Where did one emotion end and the other begin? One thing was for sure, he wasn't the only nervous one in the room. He was positive that Dean couldn't simply feel his own emotions like he was feeling Dean's, but at the same time, Dean could tell what he was feeling from his other senses, not needing to rely on the spell to get them across. Cas started to wonder what his pheromones were telling Dean now. Did they have a taste as well since people use their tongues at the back of their mouths to help with differentiating scents. Cas wondered what Dean tastes like... damn... why did he want to find out so bad? He shouldn't want to know what a dragon tastes like, but this isn’t some mindless beast, this is _Dean_ and that's all he cares about right now. His feet keep moving as his mind is going in circles.

   Dean saw the gigantic form of Castiel pace in front of the bed. He felt so small then, but his love and admiration kept him from showing off how nervous he was. Exactly how were they going to do this? He was aroused as all hell, and it was like his body didn't get the memo that his mate wasn't exactly the same size as him. Cas stood in front of Dean at the bed and squatted down on his ankles to be more eye level with him.

   “Umm...” is as far as Castiel got before the embarrassed flush hit him and Dean at the same time. Dean could tell that Cas did not want to hurt Dean whatsoever and they'd need to figure out what was safe for the both of them.

   'Well...' Dean started, hoping that the rest of the sentence didn't make him sound like a slut. At least not as slutty as he felt right about now, because he was caring less and less that he was basically an exotic sex toy like this. Dean figured he'd be designed specifically for some masochist with a penchant for needles and knives. And doesn’t that just bring up all kinds of unpleasant thoughts. He wished that he had some kind of background noise, like one of his Casa Erotica videos to get them back in the mood. The Cabana boy one was pretty good, and they are in an actual cabin... ok, that's for later. For now, Cas looks all kinds of lost and horny. 'I think we should start with you getting undressed. Wait! Turn the lights down first.'

   Castiel smiled a little. Glad one of them is suggesting something. He stood up and went to the light switch and flipped it off. Crap. Now it's absolutely pitch black. His hands came up and felt around for any furniture that decided to attack him suddenly.

   'Ok. We are gonna need _some_ kind of light... there's a flashlight inside the top drawer of the dresser you can use to find the lantern.' Dean had to instruct because if it were up to Castiel to get the room prepared, it would be a night filled with awkward pacing and bad sex talk in the harsh overhead light. He had a hunch that Cas didn't have as many partners as Dean. Over the years, he figured out what he could do quickly and effectively for a great night. And sex by flashlight is never high up on Dean's wish list for mood setters. That was more his style when he was a teenager and sneaking off with someone while Sammy was still sleeping at the motel they were dropped off at. An old timey lantern sounded cool anyway. Their candles were in the other rooms and usually kept for the hunter's jobs. Dean would always fall asleep and the candles would burn down to nothing and then he'd hear about it from Sam in the morning about wasting the special candles.

   Thankfully Castiel knew how the old lantern worked and soon the room was in a nice orange glow that flickered on the walls. He set it on the nightstand next to the bed and Dean definitely liked how the soft lighting made Cas seem just that much more desirable. The light shadows dancing along his perfect face and body. Cas seemed to be relaxing in its glow as well. The harsh lighting from before felt like he was being examined or the one doing the examining. Cas grinned serenely at Dean and bent forward a little to see the beginnings of a seductive look aimed his way.

   Holy shit, as if the nerd scientist couldn't get any sexier... damn... those blue blue eyes of his are sending all kinds of amazing sparks running through his veins. The stubble, the rough hair, the wandering hands that found his midsection... too bad there's like a million layers covering up the fine body underneath. 'Cloths. Off. Now.' Dean growled and backed up to the other side of the bed. 'Wait! Hold on, uh, do it slowly...'

   Castiel smirked and dragged his fingers along the outside edges of his trench coat and teased it off of his left shoulder, rotating it to shrug it off as slowly as possible. He started off stripping as ludicrously as possible, over exaggerating every move while pouting, but seeing how Dean was just eating it up with an honest and earnest expression, made him take this a little more seriously. The other side of the long coat slid down even slower, and he let it fall in a pool of tan fabric around his feet. Castiel then gripped the lower edges of his t-shirt and pulled it up and up and up to show off each row of abs at a time, flexing them for Dean's approval, which he got with that little wave of lust that came right at him. The shirt hid his grin when it was around his head and arms, and he put his face back into the seductive pout that he'd seen in some magazines. The shirt finally came off, mussing up his black hair, and he twirled the worn shirt around his finger a couple of times before flinging it across the room over Dean's head.

   Dean jolted with fear for a moment as the massive shirt sailed 30 feet over his head. Feeling the air currents shift as it shot across the room to slam into the wall with an audible thump, and slide down quickly like a bird shot from the sky. Dean's breath caught in his throat and he panted for a few seconds. He turned back to Cas and saw that he had a look on his face that shouted concern and worry.

   “D-Dean? Are you alright?” Castiel's hands went to cover up his naked upper body from him on the bed, like that was what startled him. He'd pushed too far, done something wrong, he must look too intimidating and frightening. This was a mistake, too fast. Much too fast. Dean must have changed his mind.

   Dean gulped down the nerves and exhaled loudly before he chirped, 'It's fine! Fine... just... unexpected.' He looked over to the part of the room where the shirt disappeared to and then back up at Cas. 'That thing got some air didn't it?'

   Cas nodded, part of him relieved that it wasn't himself that scared Dean, but the unexpected movement of something over twice his size. He cursed himself under his breath for the mistake. Everything he does will be intimidating to Dean at that size. He will have to move extra cautiously and slowly so he doesn't upset him again. Cas stood there for a few more seconds, letting Dean sort his thoughts out which didn't take long. Dean adjusted his position so he was fully facing Cas again and gave a little head bob and lip lick for him to continue.

   Castiel felt Dean's need for more and was glad that he hadn't ruined this for Dean. He lowered his eyes a little, remembering what he wanted to do while he undressed. Hips swaying slightly, side to side and forward, pointedly aiming a couple of thrusts towards Dean, proving that all of this, all of _him_ is for Dean alone.

   He put his hands to his pants belt, unbuckling it and drawing it out from the loops in his jeans and then letting it drop to the floor next to himself. His hands drifted to the jean's button and let it pop open, and with dexterous fingers, unzipped the jeans one bit at a time for a few seconds, letting each little click out like a countdown.

   Cas was simply loving the little breaths he could hear from Dean's anticipation. He eased his ass out first, keeping it from his admirer just to torment him, and felt Dean's emotions build and build as he methodically pushed the jeans down from his hips, thumbs hooking into the top and shifting them down and down, rocking them like a seesaw but making sure that his boxers remained. The motions kept up until his thinly covered member was finally free and he heard a small gasp from the bed. He was half hard just from the idea of stripping for Dean, and his boxers were making a valiant effort to cover up that fact. This particular pair of boxers did not allow too much room for any funny business.

   Taking the continued stuttered breathing from Dean as a positive cue to continue, he eased the jeans down the rest of the way and stepped free. He stood there for a second, unsure what was to happen next. His hips swayed a little just for something to do as he waited for Dean to say something. His right hand drifting towards his center and then lower. Fingertips brushing against his happy trail peeking out, with his blue eyes firmly on his lover.

   Dean was panting now and it was clear that he was anxious to get this show on the road too but also at a loss for what's next. Cas stepped closer to the bed, easing forward, to make sure that Dean didn't feel like he was being cornered there, and sat on the edge of the bed. Since that went alright, he set about bringing up his shoes and unlacing them and letting them thump to the floor. The socks were next and after getting a brief whiff of them, he did throw those, but below knee level, to a far corner of the room away from themselves. A few days on the road didn't help the foot stench. It's not exactly like they had spares for everyone in the car.

   Dean, however, couldn't help but swallow some saliva or else let it drip freely out of his mouth. His senses were singing sonnets with the new scents coming from Castiel's body. He never thought he'd love the smell of men's socks, nor days old boxers, but for some reason since they belonged to his Cas they were like fine perfume or cologne. Part of him could tell that they should reek, but instead of being put off by it, all of that heady musk screaming _Cas_ , was concentrated on them and he damn near pounced on him then and there.

   Dean watched as Cas smoothly turned to look at him down on the bed.

   Cas's face loomed overhead and Dean took his cue and scooted to the other side of the bed, allowing Cas enough room to bring his legs and feet up onto it and rotate in place so that he was laying on his side, taking up position of the much larger spoon. Together they actually resembled a single pea on a spoon more then a couple about to make love.

   Dean was all weak in the knees at the sight. Cas's body was stretching out from one end to the other and Dean was roughly level to his boxers. Simple black ones with lines going left to right. 'Forget something?' he squeaked a little before roughing up his voice and giving a growl of disapproval for the only thing left that was disgracefully covering up the impressive main attraction.

   When Castiel laid on his side facing Dean, he was trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible. Giving Dean plenty of time to get used to, well, everything. He gave a small grin at how Dean sounded irritated that he forgot about the boxers. In truth, he just didn't want to upset Dean because he knew for a fact that his member was longer then Dean was tall. He remembered back to when he considered Dean's member and how it was simply too much to imagine. The length and girth it must be... he certainly hoped that Dean wouldn't be scared away by the one in front of him, but it seems as though Dean was getting more and more turned on by this idea.

   Cas laid on his back and hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and shimmied out of the boxers awkwardly, when he had to lift up from the mattress, his body arched into the air and Dean sucked in a sharp breath. Castiel could tell that it was just Dean being reminded once again how simple things and motions were seen from his unique perspective. Castiel tried not to bounce on the bed too much and noticed Dean clutch the sheets more then once to remain steady. The boxers were slipped down to his knees and Cas could tell the second that Dean could see his half hard member when he lowered himself back to the bed to finish pulling the boxers down.

   ' _Holy shit._ ' Dean breathed and Cas could not for the life of him hold back the smug grin.

   The boxers joined the jeans on the floor and he laid on his back for a few more seconds, reveling in the sounds Dean was making. A mix of lecherous filled growls and a heavy purr. He turned his head to his left and grinned wider at how Dean was nearly crawling towards him. Dean managed to straighten out his legs a little better and his thoughts swam with want and images of what he'd really like to do with this nerdy scientist. He knew Cas was no virgin, but at the same time he was proud that he could pop Castiel's tiny-dragon-sex cherry.

   Cas started to turn back towards Dean again, shifting in the bed which made Dean tumble a little when the sheets slid forward from underneath him. He just chuckled good humoredly and got back to his shaking feet to get closer again. But when he reached the left arm laying on the bed in front of him, he paused and lifted up his clawed hand. He rested it on Cas's arm and felt the little twitch underneath. Dean knew that Cas was a little worried about what those claws could do to his exposed skin. Dean sighed heavily. He didn't want to hurt Cas anymore then Cas wanted to hurt him in that small fragile body. It wasn't even about the sex, Dean was getting high off of having Cas all to himself like this. All vulnerable and exposed. Showing Dean something that only a few other people had seen.

   Dean wasn't exactly the poster child of marriage material, and he had a reputation of being a ladies man, but he never once cheated on anyone that he dated before. He was faithful to each one for the duration of the relationship. It never worked out, and he became a little more distant to the idea of settling down with just one person. He convinced himself that all he was good for is a quick lay in bed and he should be out the door. No relationship had lasted longer then 6 months. He never dared to try and date any of his male partners. If his dad ever found out, he would no doubt be disowned or driven away and Sam would be left alone with him. He loved them both but Sam and their dad had hardly ever got along. He kept his bisexuality to himself, but knew that Sam knew. The kid was just too smart and observant. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut about it, and for Dean it was a little easier to ignore those impulses if they never talked about it. He had his flings, but they didn't feel like anyone he could spend a lifetime with.

   And then there's _Cas_.

   Castiel was different on so many levels, Dean couldn’t possibly keep up. Cas met him when he was a massive beast in a semi trailer and over such a short period of time, managed to see the real Dean inside. Apparently Cas had been searching for him for a long time before that day. Hearing about the hunt that went south in Freedersville and missing the chance to meet him as a human by a damned week. Dean hoped that he could see Cas through human eyes again because he wants to see and feel Cas as equals. He knew that Cas wasn't just interested in the Dean in the photos or the one before him now, he was interested in _all of him_. Sorted history and all. Cas loved him completely.

   And what could that mean to Dean? He felt a connection to the tan coated scientist from the start. The feelings that were growing started with the hybrid version of himself but that was _still part of him_. Dean was coming to terms with the fact that the hybrid dragon was essentially a manifestation of a life lived without hunting evil monsters. If his life had started a different way obviously, things would have turned out differently. What made Dean _Dean_ was still there, it was just slightly altered because of his surroundings and form. The dragon side though, he couldn’t really feel it in there. It was far too primitive. Something along the lines of knee jerk reactions and base instincts. An animal through and through. Not dangerous, according to the others, but not really representing _him_. If they - _when_ they, get him back to being human... where is that animal side going?

   The sounds of Cas moving into a more comfortable position brought Dean out of his head again. Cas was being such a good sport about all this. Dean could see the grin come back to the huge face to his right and the lips parted a little.

   “Hello, Dean.” he rumbled and vibrated the very bed and air around him.

   'Oh God, just - never stop talking, Cas.' Dean purred and walked closer to the chapped lips.

   “And what would you like to discuss, Dean? We don't have very long.” Castiel hummed again with a teasing tone. He whispered conspiratorially, “ _We might get caught_!” which had the desired effect of having Dean strut closer and rest his forearms on the pillow next to Castiel's mouth.

   Dean's eyes flit up to Cas's and he felt the hot moist air escaping the mouth before him like a warm summer breeze. Dean propped up his front half on the pillow and rested his head next to Cas's upper lip, letting the next few rushes of air run down his sides and sending shivers down his body. His wings ruffled and shifted and he wished he could tear his eyes from that large sky blue pool of iris that Cas was exhibiting like a fuckin' work of art. He just needed his eyes long enough to asses how to take the stupid wing bandages off. He felt like he was in a straight jacket with them being immobile like this.

   'I wish I could fly on your breaths alone.' he purred and stuck his nose next to Castiel's and rubbed a little. His head bobbed a little when Castiel softly chuckled.

   “I thought you were afraid of flying.” there's that damned vibration again sending all kinds of pleasantness through Dean's body. World's largest vibrator. His belly dipped closer to the pillow and the voice box. The reason for that would be kept from anyone with a delicate constitution. _Good thing Sam's not here_ , he quiped in his mind.

   “I understand how the idea of flying solely on your own would be scary.”

   'Not when you're around. I know you'll catch me if I fall.' Dean said back, honesty and trust lacing every word, and he wondered when he started coming up with such sappy one liners. Just because they were true... 'Hey, so uh, 'little Dean' is getting a bit impatient here.' He murmured and couldn't stop the aborted thrust into the pillow and he saw those irises dilate a little with want.

   “I'll leave it to you, what would you like me to do for you, or perhaps, you to do to me, Dean?”

   'Oh man, what _wouldn't_ I like to do. Shit.' Dean licked his lips and purred a little. His eyes cast down the huge face to the chest that was slowly rising and falling. 'Hang on.' he said and made his hands into fists to curl the claws into his own palms and muttered apologies for his feet not being able to do the same to make them mostly harmless.

   He tried to climb up onto Castiel's neck towards his chest when he felt warm fingers drift around his struggling body and he was lifted up and placed on the wide expansive chest. Warmth and love were simply radiating all around him and he fell to his stomach over Castiel's heart. 'Holy shit, are you kidding me right now? Mmmm.... I wish you could feel this like how I’m feeling this.'

   Cas hummed and grinned at him. Dean didn't even care that he was basically looking up Cas's nose and the underside of his chin. He could still see that smile and rubbed the underside of his chin along the skin of the chest underneath him. 'You got a nice heartbeat. You know that?' he murmured and wiggled around a little to face the other way. Castiel's eyebrows raised a little but he sucked in a sharp breath when he felt something tease his nipple. Dean was lifted up abruptly and huff laughed for a few seconds. 'Knew you'd like that,' he chirped and tongued at the nipple again, wrapping the forked ends around the peak and nipping at it gently and then a little rougher when it looked like Cas wasn't feeling it as much. He lowered his lips and actually sucked on it for a few seconds and hummed smugly as he saw that Cas was getting seriously aroused.

   Castiel's right hand went down to stroke himself a couple of times, all while looking up at the ceiling and groaning in pleasure. 'So nice, so beautiful.' Dean praised between suckles and wanted to know what Cas tasted like all over. He lifted his head and replaced the tongue with his hand, stroking the nipple and looking up at Castiel's face as his Adam’s apple bobbed and he could tell his name was on those chapped lips being whispered like a poem.

   “Dean... Dean.. I wanna... _wanna_... please let me?” Cas lifted up his head a little and looked at him with pleading eyes. He could tell Dean didn't quiet get the request and grunted. “Come here?”

   Dean flicked the nipple with a smirk when he was done with it. 'I'm already here, I can't get much closer so you're gonna have to be specific which direction of 'here' you want me to go.'

   “ _Here_.” Castiel insisted and Dean's breath stuttered when Cas licked his lips and parted them invitingly. “Wanna taste..” he begged and arched his back a little as his hand was stroking a little more fervently. Castiel's other hand came up to guide Dean closer to his mouth using just the side of his thumb. Dean let himself be herded and put his hands on Castiel's chin. He wasn't exactly sure what part Cas was after when the hand descended over him and he yelped a little at being airborne with his legs dangling. He was settled over Castiel's nose with his hips over the mouth that parted again and Cas's eyes were nearly squinting shut but still looking at Dean for permission.

   Cas could see that his nose was being a poor substitute for a bed so he angled his head just a little to the side so Dean's chest was resting on one side with his arm around the peak of the nose now. Dean hugged it and let his legs relax to rest on each side of Castiel's mouth, scooting down to sit on his chin. Tail draped down to the neck with its pounding heartbeat, and knees at the dimples. Cas hummed underneath him and Dean could feel the inhale along his chest from the nose, and warm exhale all over his lower belly from the parted lips. Warming him up even more. Dean sunk into that and only twitched a little when he felt a hot wet tongue all along his belly, seeking out his bulge and finding it. Dean dipped lower as a nonverbal permission to keep it up and Cas's hot breaths trailed all up and down his inner legs.

   The tongue flattened and he felt it from his hole all the way up to his stomach. Then it folded and dipped down again. The worlds biggest and greatest blow job. Dean wasted no time at all in unsheathing himself, anxious to find out what that soft hot tongue feels along his dick and was not disappointed. Holy fuck. The small taste buds along the tongue alone... then with how slick it is, flexible, insistent but careful. _Fuck_. Dean thrust his hips down into the tongue on its 4 th or 5th or 100th pass, he didn't know or care, there was that fucking awesome vibration under him from Cas's beautiful moans, Cas's scent everywhere, his green eyes mirrored in Cas's lust blown blue eyes, and a massive undulating tongue enveloping all of his manhood in the warmest place in the world. Dean realized a little late that he was digging his claws into Castiel's cheek but apparently his bed was ok with it. He let up on the claws to stroke the cheeks a little to show his unyielding appreciation for the ministrations going on.

   “So exquisite. Having you like this...” Cas's voice rumbled underneath him and he was damn close to loosing himself then and there. A few more thrusts and laps and Dean was panting hard and fast. Cas could tell he was so close and hummed louder, turning it into a deep throated growl to make Dean's thrusts stutter. His lips locked around Dean's fully extended and stiff cock and he _sucked_. Tongue wrapping around it from sheath to top and pulled Dean willingly into his orgasm. Dean was making all kinds of noises and the little thrusts shook him from nose to tail as he released everything onto Castiel's waiting tongue. Another thrust and Dean was lost to bliss and rational thought. Lightning flickered his sight and everything was getting fuzzy around the edges. Cas twirled his tongue around the shaft again and pulled every last gram of cum out of Dean.

   Dean sagged on his face, wings parting as far as they would go, straining against the bandages. He just wanted to wrap himself up all around his mate. Show him how much he _totally_ loved that. His mind swam in pools of quiet bliss for a little while. Heartbeat calming but he could hear something going on behind him further down the bed. The heartbeat underneath him picking up just a little as Cas was now gently kissing Dean's belly and inhaling the scent of a spent dragon. Apparently it was like an aphrodisiac because Cas was getting off on just having a blissed out Dean on his face. Dean lifted up his head from where it collapsed on the sweating forehead, and turned it lazily to look behind him and saw that poor Cas hadn't got much attention yet. All of his focus was on giving Dean the best BJ he'd ever had and received next to nothing for his own needs.

   'Mmmm, hang on Tiger.' Dean mumbled and gave a quick kiss to the top of Cas's nose as he scooted back. Sitting more fully on the chin. 'I'm coming.'

   Castiel grinned underneath him, making him slip up as he said, “You already came.”

   'Smartass.' Dean stuck his long tongue out at him and got to his wobbly feet. Trying very hard not to use the ends of his fingers or toes. Cas saw his struggle and raised up his free hand again and plucked him off of his face to land on his chest. Dean rose and fell with the breaths and the heart picked up a little more. 'Cas... I wanna do that for you. I wanna show you just how much I fucking _appreciated_ your determination at getting my pebbles off.' he faced the hips and started walking towards them, and if he hadn't just had the stuffings sucked out of him, the sight of Cas jerking himself off would have sent him over the edge. Hot damn that was a fine specimen of cock. The scents alone... damn. How the hell had he had sex before without detecting every single nuance that his partners were giving him? It was like he only had sex in black and white and now it's real time Imax HD technicolor with the greatest sub woofers in existence. Made in Japan for the wealthiest of wealthy people. And here he was in a old leaky cabin in the woods with just a lit S-Mart lantern for mood setters. Imagine what this would be like in his ideal setting. Dean shivered and hoped that he'd have that chance before he changed back because human senses were painfully weak compared to these now.

   Cas too felt that something was definitely different this time then the last time he had intercourse. His mind supplied him with the image of the potion he downed and a light bulb went off. He was feeling part of what Dean was feeling and it was like a continuous loop between them. Dean might as well have a link into his brain due to his keen nose. What would it like to be able to feel and do what Dean can? If all Castiel's getting is a part of the feelings, just how much is Dean feeling and how the hell is he still able to _stand_? Hunter's determination apparently. His boyfriend is setting out to reciprocate and isn't going to disappoint or delay. And didn't that send all kinds of warm fuzzy feelings over his body. His right hand pumping at the mere thought of Dean's devotion.

   Dean couldn't help but inhale deeper then he exhaled as he got closer. 'Slow down! Leave me something to do!' he admonished and the tiny claws on Castiel's belly tickled a bit. The hand stopped pumping and hovered close to Dean's body for a second, holding back just barely from grabbing Dean off of the sensitive skin. He felt Dean tense and crouch down a little from the sudden movement.

   “Dean?” Cas's voice quivered a little.

   The fear scent tainted the _taint_ scent. Kinda ticked Dean off. 'Lemme think how we can do this. I don't want to give you any more piercings.' Dean turned his head and saw the confused look in Cas's eyes. 'Don't think I didn't notice that hand made ear piercing you did.' he grinned at Cas's blush. 'It's a little off center. But still good.'

   “I was a bored kid with a pin.” he defended. “My parents wouldn't allow me to get it properly done.”

   'Yeah, I know how that goes. The only tattoo my dad allowed was the one on my chest to ward off evil.' Dean looked down and frowned when he didn't see it. 'Can't really tell right now...'

   Cas tilted his head in consideration and said, “When you get back to normal, I'll have to see it and get a matching one.” he said as if that was set in stone and he were simply informing him.

   Dean ducked his head back down and grinned a little at that. His instincts telling him that marking was a form of bonding between two of his specie. That statement felt a little like a marriage proposal and he was trying very hard to hide how happy that made him. He coughed into his hand and said with a slight trill and clear affection in his teasing voice, 'You'll have to pierce my ear too. Show me your stupidly wrong way of doing it.'

   Castiel's hand poked Dean's side for the quip. “It was sanitized. No infection at all. I was a kid, not stupid.” and grinned widely at the expression on the little dragon's face. “Now get back to work.” he stroked himself again because Dean was taking too long.

   'Nag nag nag.' Dean stuck his tongue out at him and looked around the massive room for ideas. Seeing a survival kit bag in the corner with a pair of leather gloves on top nearly made him jump for joy. 'That's it!'

   Dean walked to Cas's side and the giggle fit that ensued knocked Dean right off of his perch. Dean was about to curse up a storm for the hazard dismount but Cas was busy sending a glare with his eyes and a giggle with his mouth. Like it was Dean's prerogative to tickle torture him while he's trying to think sexy thoughts. Dean made sure he was far enough away for Cas to stand up because it would take the huge human mere seconds to do this next task. Still, he had to offer to do it himself so he wouldn't sound like he's trying to get Cas to do everything.

   'I need to get over to that duffel for one of those old gloves.' Dean announced and started for the edge of the bed. He hid a sneaky grin when he heard Cas curse and slide his feet towards the floor. 'No no! I got this!' Dean said, taking his sweet ass time to go 4 steps to the edge of the bed.

   “No. _I_ got this. You want the glove?” Cas grumbled and wondered what the hell he'd need a glove for, he already showed that Dean's spikes don't hurt the insides of his hands.

   'Both actually, one for me one for you.' Dean chirruped, 'and some scissors.'

   “Scissors...” Cas pondered as he retrieved the soft and very careworn leather gloves. They felt more like velvet then leather. Soft and extremely flexible.

   Once the gloves were laid out in front of Dean he had a second to marvel at the size of them. He could fit inside each one with room to spare. 'Ok, uh, take the left glove and cut off an inch from the ends of all the fingers and the whole thumb.' Dean used his index finger claw to indicate the lines. It would turn the glove into a half fingerless one. Cas finally found some scissors in a medical kit inside the bathroom that joined this bedroom. There was another door on the other side that connected to the other bedroom. Whoops! He was grateful that the others hadn't tried to use the facilities yet. He glimpsed the sink and grinned at the perfect size it would be for a tiny dirty dragon. _That's later_.

   Cas cut the fingers off of the glove and laid them in front of Dean each time one was freed. Dean sat down and used his bound wings like kickstands on both sides as he jut one of his legs in front of himself like a cat about to groom the inside of it's leg. One of the longer leather cups was tugged on over his foot and pulled up like stockings. Dean splayed his foot inside and kept the leather on like one would slippers that were one size too big.

   The next glove finger went over his other foot and he stood up, splaying both sets of toes and grinned that they fit pretty well. It was similar in feel to very very thick winter socks or moccasins. Cas cut off two more glove fingers and handed them over, Dean slid them on over his hands using his teeth, but they fell off too easily. Castiel now realized what they were for and retrieved the hand ones and cut thin straps along the edges. With very careful dexterity, Cas tied them to Dean's wrists and Dean was able to work with them as if they were mittens without thumbs. Wide enough for him to grab stuff if he wanted to, but the leather proved thick enough to prevent his little claws from puncturing them.

   'I feel like one of those infants with booties and mittens to keep them from scratching themselves.'

   Cas tisked and stroked a finger along Dean's spine to distract him from thinking about himself as weak. “I think it was a great idea. Now, you wont have to hold back from pleasuring me.” Castiel's voice sounded like he was trying very hard to sound perverted and dominate, but Dean could tell that he was anything but. Cas's scent betrayed him as being scared of hurting or intimidating the short dragon.

   Dean decided to play along and tried to flex his wings in a dominate display but they strained against the bandages. He was starting to feel like he was wrapped up just a little too much. They were supposed to be intimate and now he was wearing far more then Cas.

   'Can you take these things off of my wings? My wings feel fine and it's way too constricting.'

   Cas studied the bandages first before bringing his huge hands in close again. Dean tried to unfold his right wing first but it wouldn't stretch far. With careful fingers the size of tree trunks, Cas carefully pulled at the end of the bandage and unwrapped the wing. Dean very carefully unfolded it with far more concentration then necessary. Marveling at the sensations of it feeling just like a hand and arm that he had to remind himself that he already has a right arm and hand. This is like a 'spare'. He flexed the long webbed fingers and found the range of motion to be a little limited. They felt weak and he considered exercising them later. It wouldn't do to have any part of him weak or fragile. These are _his_ wings and he needs to start considering them as valuable to him as his arms and legs. Ignoring them isn't making them go away and they could mean the difference between life and death.

   He just now noticed that the other wing was unwrapped and Cas was moving the bandages to the nightstand. Dean flexed both wings in and out and tried folding them up the same way as they had been wrapped up. It took a couple of tries but he managed it and blushed when he saw the pride in Cas's eyes at his accomplishment. Dean's wings twitched and refolded again, he found it easier if he didn't think about it too hard.

   “They are mostly healed now, that's great.” The grin in his voice was clear as day that he was worried about Dean. After a moments hesitation he timidly asked, “May I?” Cas wavered a hand over his body and Dean nodded, not quite expecting what was next. Cas used his index finger to gingerly lift up the leading edge of the closest wing, urging it open. Dean complied and lifted it up and over Cas's finger knuckles. The hand rotated underneath the wing, rubbing along the underside of it, watching the indents of his fingers movements from the top of the wing. Dean shuttered a little with a contented sigh. No one had ever touched his wings like that. He slowly flapped it onto the hand, watching how the fingers 'grabbed' onto the first two fingers of Cas's hand. The other two curling under to tickle Dean's underbelly.

   Dean squirmed away and after a few terse wing flaps, folded them in tight for his glare to have any impact. The tingling sensations still ran up his spine and felt so damned good that he nearly turned around so that Cas could mess with his other wing too. For symmetries sake. A leg kicked out to release some of that energy and Dean shook himself out.

   'Shut up and lay down.' Dean demanded, and after a quick belt of laugh from the skyscraper, he found the massive body turning in its seat to bring the legs up and around Dean sitting on the bed.

   Cas had spent enough time distracted that his dick was back to square one.

   Dean was at a front row seat of what Cas was blessed with. He wasn't a size queen by any means, but just the sheer mass of heated flesh in front of him made him take a second to breath through his insecurities about not being strong enough to do anything even remotely as good as what Cas did for Dean. He gripped the makeshift coverings for his hands and feet, trying and thankfully failing to poke the claws out and into the sheet below. He really didn't want to hurt Cas down here. Of course, everything wasn't nearly slick enough for any kind of activity involving a thing with scales.

   'Hey, uh, see that bottle of Jergens hand lotion on the nightstand?'

   “Yes?”

   'You're gonna need it.' Dean stated and saw Cas scoot up the bed to reach it and pumped out a dollop onto his hands, rubbing it in briskly.

   “Apologies, Dean.” he murmured, ashamed that his hands were that rough that they were uncomfortable to Dean.

   Dean stared at him, wondering what he meant before he got it and said, 'Not you, me! I'm gonna need a tub of that stuff before I even get close to you.” The dawning realization of what Dean may have planned made his dick twitch a little in anticipation.

   He only gave it a moments consideration before slicking up his fingers with the next huge dollop of white unscented lotion. Dean now realized how it must look having such a conspicuously large bottle of lotion right next to his bed and felt he need to explain why as he sheepishly said, 'In the winter a hunter needs some lotion for his skin or else cracks appear and any number of infections can happen. If I don't use hand lotion, my skin gets all scaly.' he stated and only realized what he said when Cas stopped his lathering hands to belt out a laugh. Dean waved a wing at him and said, 'Ok, that one was too easy.'

   Past the snickers that died down a little Cas composed himself, lifted his head up from his laying down position to see Dean better, Cas said with as straight of a face as he could, “It puts the lotion on its skin?” and wiggled his lotion drenched fingers in the air. “So it can get the hose again?” and thrust his hips up an inch or two.

  Dean dug his claws into the tender skin underneath him earning a satisfying yelp.

  “Should we see if it works on your scaly skin now?” he teased and squirted out yet another big mound onto his hand. “Maybe all you need is this extra sensitive and dry skin remedy from the good people at Jergens? What would be the odds?” Cas pulled his torso up the bed to lean it on the headboard a little.

   Dean could either take offense or see it for the harmless teasing it is and said, “Gonna need a bigger bottle.” and made his way over to the larger pile of lotion waiting in Cas's left hand. He was so worried that they would be bad at this whole night, but his worries were unfounded, this is nice. Being intimate shouldn't be a competition for who's the best, but a precious event shared between two people. In Dean's mind, if you can't laugh while it's just the two of you together, you're taking it way too seriously and probably doing it wrong.

   Cas lowered his hand and Dean's wings flexed a little as he climbed up. The lotion was a little cold but slowly heated up the longer it was in Castiel's warming hands. The other huge hand came from above and Dean instinctively ducked as it moved closer. Cas would never take offense at that, but also hoped that Dean would get used to it. At least a little bit. Dean could only use one hand at a time to smear the lotion on himself and Cas started in too. Not quite knowing where all Dean wanted it.

   “Dean? Where?”

   ' _Everywhere_ , Cas.' Dean stated and put some lotion on his nose and winked. 'Think, 'Nickelodeon slime pit' and imagine it's filled with busty Asian beauties.' At that, Cas pumped out another mound of lotion and Dean noticed movement behind himself. 'Atta boy.' he smirked as 'little Cas' was sitting up and taking notes. 'Ok, that's enough, let's get back to me and you here.' he nodded as lotion was being spread along his belly where he could reach one handed.

   Cas took extra care to unfold one of Dean's wings again and Dean nudged the webbing into the probing fingertips. 'Oh God, Cas, your fingers are the real magic fingers.' he purred and shivered at the gentle strokes along the membranes. Dean started to lean into that side when suddenly the pressure lifted from his left wing and his right was being urged open. It snapped out so full and fast Cas was startled. Dean flapped it a few times and grunted at Cas to hurry it up but once the gentle fingers made contact he wanted him to slow it down. Once the fingers traced every single thin bone in the wing, Dean was left a quivering mess. Both hands on both wings, rubbing the membrane like a child rubs a silky blanket. Laying down fully onto the lotion soaked bedspread and damn near making snow angels in the white lotion as his arms and legs squirmed for something to hold onto. The left wing was curling around the hand, insisting that Cas goes nowhere without him. Cas eased him back onto one hand to reach underneath his tail with the other.

   'How long is a dragon's refractory period anyway?' he purred out before an aborted hump was placed into Cas's ring finger. 'Should we find out?'

   Castiel was getting quite hard just watching Dean. He cleared his throat and that had Dean woozily lifting his head to look up at the head staring back at him with hooded eyes. “Aren't you forgetting something?” his low gravely voice urged and his gaze shifted to look pointedly behind Dean.

   'We can do both.' Dean stated as if that was the most logical answer. 'But you come first.'

   “Actually, you came first.”

   'Little shit.' Dean spat out without any heat behind it. He eventually found his legs again and Cas trailed his fingers one last time over Dean's whole body, curling three fingers around the base of his tail and pulling all the lotion excess off of the tail on down to the tip. Castiel then rubbed his hands with the extra lotion and then took a light hold of his dick with it and slathered it up as well. Can't be too prepared.

   'I'm gonna slip right off.' Dean commented dryly and needed help getting up onto Cas's hips from the bedspread.

   “Dean. It is of great import that you succeed.” he stated gravely, and gestured to his dick as if it were a podium and not a hot throbbing sex organ that was about to get strangled by a mythical miniature monster.

   Dean slipped every other step and looked up at the tall shaft in front of him. It curled towards Castiel's belly and Dean started to walk around it, trying to figure out the best way to mount that beautiful dripping mass of flesh. Cas didn't even have to try did he? He was just naturally handsome and sexy as hell in every single possible way. From this angle even more so. His lotion soaked mitten-ed hands reached out and stroked along the shaft a few times and Dean felt the stomach muscles under his feet clench and release. 'Hey, scoot closer to the headboard, Baby, I want you to hold me.'

   Cas's right hand came down and stroked the dick twice before cupping around Dean's body. Dean folded in his wings for a second as Cas grabbed him gently in a loose and slightly opened fist. Cas shifted backwards using his elbows, butt, and feet, and with his other hand, placed a pillow behind his back and head for comfort. The hand Dean was in was turned more or less palm side up and Dean's four legs were now in the air and flailing for just a second at the disorienting turn. Wings twitching as if they didn't know whether to open or close to right himself. Then, as if reading his mind again, Cas moved Dean's body towards his member to help Dean wrap his arms and legs around the tall shaft. Dean's head at it's head. His tail curled around and after some concentration, he made the tail dip down and fondle the balls that lay heavy underneath him.

   Cas was already starting to pant and the hand holding Dean to his dick started to tighten. Dean, in turn, tightened his gloved grip around the thick shaft and stroked it along the vein. Dean rubbed his jaw along the perineum and that earned him a sharp thrust from his lover. He was dizzy for a second before it happened again and he could see Cas's face was now turned to the ceiling and it looked as though he thought this couldn't get any better.

   'Slow down there big boy.' Dean purred and tightened his grip of the shaft to keep himself from sliding along the dick again from Cas moving his hand up and down. 'This is my job.' he stated seriously and his tail flicked the balls a little for retribution for treating Dean like a sex toy. The hand stilled and Cas's eyes found Dean again and he waited. His dick twitched under the tight grip Dean had on it and he resisted every single primal urge to not keep on thrusting into Dean. The hand around Dean was now loosening and merely providing support for Dean's body.

   Dean grinned and gave a single wink to show his approval.

   It started out slow, Dean scooted a little lower to the base and stretched out his body along the vein and his hands went from as low as he could reach, on up to the head and then circled the bulb and slit before drifting down again to meet his feet that continued the path to the base and then stroked back upwards again. This was turning out to be a workout. Dean's tail wrapped around the base and tightened and released in time with each stroke to provide maximum sensation to all of Cas's sensitive spots. Dean found a rhythm and pre-cum started to leak out of Cas's cock. Dean took a long drawn out sniff of it while looking right at Cas's face. Once he got his attention, Dean used one of his hands to smear it all over the head and slit. Showing him just how much he loves it right where he is. A single kiss to the head sent his mind swimming. The taste of pure Cas was now on his lips and it was amazing.

   The scents were driving Dean mad and he just wanted to bathe in it. Mark himself with Cas's scent for all to know that he is Dean's and Dean is his. His tongue slid out of his panting maw and he lapped at the slit in front of his face. Dipping his tongue down inside of it and hugging the head at the same time.

   That got him a nice thrust upwards. Cas couldn't help himself. He was falling apart at the awesome feelings and sensations. No blow job or hand job could possibly compare to this. Dean was worshiping his cock like no other. Finding that spot and tenderly kneading it to send those sparks of light all up and down his body. Not even his own fingers could stimulate half as good as Dean's ministrations. With the smaller fingers, even gloved, Dean could tickle each nerve into a frenzy. It was like his lover was keyed in to every single place that drove him wild. When he's alone, he knew how to get himself off efficiently but this was more like blowing his mind, body, and soul apart. So far beyond sex and into new territories.

   “Fuck... Dean, fuckin'... so good. Soo nice. Don't stop...” praises and pleads fell from his lips as he thrust again into that tight but slippery grip. Dean didn't stop dipping his tongue into his slit and stimulating the hell out of the _inside_. He could actually feel the soft forked end seeking out the special spot from the inside and once his breath stuttered, Dean started to go faster with his tight strokes. Picking up the speed and loving every single sigh and moan of pleasure. His slicked up wings got into it too. Whatever spot wasn't being covered by his body, legs or arms, the wings did. Wrapping around them both and nudging every speck of skin in time with Dean's full bodied lunges. They helped give Cas that feeling of being completely surrounded while giving Dean some added strength to the strokes.

   Dean could tell Cas was getting close and he tightened his tail around the base of the dick, acting like a cock ring. He could actually feel the balls tighten, as well as the skin underneath his thighs and he clenched those too, lotion soaked socked feet finding the vein and tickling the shit out of it as his hands did the same further up. Dean thrust into the cock around him and found that that alone was really getting Cas off faster then anything before.

   All the while Dean was grunting and panting out, 'So big, fuckin' nice... God Cas, gonna make you mine. Gonna make you cum all over me. This is mine and I'm yours. _Fuck_. You should see this, how desperate you make me.' Dean rumbled and kissed the slit, tongue fucking it and loving every second. Cas's fist was tightening around him and he knew he should stop fucking around and let Cas finally release. He just wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible. Cas was at Dean's mercy. The feeling of having this much power over him made Dean thrust harder. His attention elsewhere, the tail loosened to wiggle between the heavy balls, and he felt the moment in his jerks when Cas was tipping over the edge.

   'Fuck yeah! _FFFFuuuuccc_ -' Dean ground himself into the dick as the balls tightened closer to the body and the semen pushed its way up past Dean's legs, arms and then shot out past Dean's face that was there just a split second before. The hand that had been left below Dean as a safety net was now holding Dean again. They dropped low and it desperately squeezed Dean around the cock base and then up to the head. Dean couldn't have been happier because that just gave him the perfect friction for his own member.

   All the while, curses and Dean's name dripping from his lips as each time semen shot out towards his chest in 4 or 5 body arcing bursts. Cas's breath hitching just before another load came out in an arc.

   Dean only half wished he was in the line of fire, thinking about saving that for another day.

   Castiel's mind started to swim in delight as he felt Dean actually milking him for all he's worth. Dean's humping of his dick would be damn near comical if he thought about it too hard. Apparently, Dean's refraction period wasn't too long because Dean came for the second time that night, just a second later. His hips stuttering and head kicked back to rest on Cas's index finger. He hugged the penis to himself as if it was Cas's whole body, and he was going in for a cuddle after sex. He patted it a couple of times and congratulated it for a job well done.

   Cas finally leaned back into the pillows behind him again as his body started to relax bonelessly. Traces of those sparks still tingling along his nerves as Dean was felt snuggling up to his spent dick. A soft sigh escaped his lips and he pulled a reluctant Dean from his oversensitive cuddle buddy. Dean squirmed and his body looked like it was pouting but he recovered soon enough when he realized where his new location was going to be.

   The hand felt like it was loosing strength and he preened at the implications. Cas didn't just get off to the point of exhaustion, _Dean destroyed him._ The fingers loosened by miniscule increments until Dean flopped onto the wide heaving chest. Dean curled up lazily between the pecks and rested his head over the warm heart.

   'So what do you think?' Dean cooed, 'was it any good?'

   Cas inhaled deeply as if he was going to make a speech, paused with Dean resting a few inches higher then before, and his eyebrows lowered as he faced the ceiling. “Shut up.” The rest of the breath was let out in a loud rush of air over his little lover. Cas's other hand came up and stroked Dean's neck and cheek blindly. His fingers cupping the body over his chest with the thumb acting like Dean's pillow.

   'Hmmm.' Dean sounded thoughtful, if a little out of breath, 'Gonna have to try harder next time.' He then patted the chest underneath him as if consoling a child. 'Promise next time will be noteworthy.'

   Cas lifted up his heavy head and his blue eyes finally found and squinted at Dean's. He was about to make an attempt at snark but it died on his tongue at the smug look on Dean's face. He knew exactly how good it was for both and how little control Cas had over himself once Dean brought out the big guns. Dean was showing off and being an assbutt about it.

   “As you wish.” He smirked as he heard Dean's smothered laugh. He was pleased to make a pop culture reference that Dean got right away. But really, who _hasn't_ seen The Princess Bride?

 

   Outside, ten minutes prior, Sam had just left the shed after busying himself with whatever he could find to give the two idiot lovebirds time to compose themselves. He wasn't about to go in there when it was going on, the proximity would have been overwhelmingly oppressive. He could have taken off in the Impala on a supply run but that would leave the others at the cabin with no get-away car if the shit hit the fan. His steps were careful in the dark and he was just about to enter the clearing around the cabin when he felt a second massive wave of lust sucker punch him that rivaled the first with intensity. It nearly came out of nowhere and he made an about face back to the shed, _loudly_ cursing out his brother the whole way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, did y'all like it? Too much? Not enough?   
> I hope you all have a great new year!


	25. Dream a Little Dream of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a hot bath, a nice filling dinner and a mild panic attack.   
> A great way to wind down is to sleep next to your one true love and share your innermost dreams with each other.

Chapter 25:

Dream a Little Dream of Me

 

 

   The two of them lay in bed, listening to the faint sounds of the others in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Dean dozed a little, not quite asleep but certainly not up to speed. Cas wasn't much better, but the tacky feel of his stomach made him squirm a little. The heat in his skin cooling a little too fast and keeping him from slumbering. If he wasn't laying on all the covers, he probably would have just covered them both up and slept till morning but as it was, Dean and he were a mess and his empty stomach was now fully awake and demanding food.

   Dean grumbled underneath his hand at the gurgling sounds coming from deep inside his 'bed', his own stomach protesting now that it could smell the promise of food coming from the kitchen.

   'Caasss...' Dean whined. 'Go get us some food.'

   “You get it. It's your fault I can't move.” The chest rumbling underneath him with the low sex rough voice.

   'Caaaaa _asssssss_...' Dean wailed a little, aiming his head towards the huge head to his left. He was snug in his little hand cave with the built in heated floor made out of Cas's chest but he felt that all that hard work deserved _something_ in return. 'I’ll buy, you fly?' he snickered. Something that he and Sam would hedge out between them, one would buy the dinner if the other went and got it.

   Cas gave a raised eyebrow and with his fingers he lifted up one of Dean's limp wings. Amused at how light and pliant his partner felt, his other hand came up and Dean grumped at the loss of heat while Cas made his wings flap a little. Dean let him, kinda hoping that Cas would start rubbing them again cause that was _awesome_.

   “Hmmm.” Cas thought loudly, “Well, until we get your wings in working order, I suppose I’ll be the one to 'fly'.” his fingers lifting in air quotes.

   'Cool. Just gimme a few minutes in your warmed bed.' Dean mumbled, already half asleep.

   “I don't think so, you are a mess. I am gonna clean you up because you've never had a good thorough cleaning in your _life_.” Cas said and let go of the wings to cup his hands around the tired dragon.

   'I bathed!' Dean balked a little lazily.

   “In a _stream_. That's hardly sanitary.”

   'Mountain fresh water.' He defended. 'Some people would pay a lot of money to drink that. It can't be much worse then the stagnant well water here at the cabin.'

   “There's soap and the water has no doubt been treated. It's safe to drink and trust me, a nice hot bath make you feel better. Maybe with the soapy water we can scrub off the rest of those metal flakes from your scales.” he whispered, thumb brushing lightly over the dusting of iron and aluminum spots that marred his mate's skin. He felt so close to Dean that anything wrong with Dean, physically, emotionally, mentally, he _had_ to fix. Dean mentioned a 'profound bond' earlier in his dream when it was just the two of them at the fishing dock. Castiel supposed that had something to do with this connection. Something in the research he and Balth conducted ages ago, alluded to dragons willingly bonding with so called, 'masters'. Even though he never thought of himself as Dean's 'master' he couldn't deny that they were connected. Maybe it was more like Familiar's and their Witches. Equal partners with archaic names for their titles. One is no better then the other, however, both are very important to each other. In the now confirmed stories, if a Witch or Familiar dies, the other dies too. Sam and Bobby had met their fair share of good and bad monsters and not all witches were evil. One actually helped them out with a few spells for Dean's current predicament.

   Cas found himself pondering what it would be like if Dean was his Familiar as he stroked the tired dragon. His fingers lightly grazed down his partner's wings, still feeling a little slick from the lotion. Another thing he wanted to clean off...

   Dean turned his head and frowned at the few remaining metal spots. He shrugged and waved his hand for Cas to get it over with. He decided to close his eyes for the trip to the bathroom, not wanting to see how far down the ground is anymore then he absolutely has to. Besides, he was still tired as hell. The glove covers over his hands were getting annoying though, the ones on his feet now removed and brought along towards the sink.

   Cas deposited Dean down onto an old hand towel next to the sink and made sure that the door to the other bedroom was locked. Cas then helped Dean out of the mittens and laid them next to the leather booties. The water was cold for a little while so he used it to wash the leather pieces first so the water wasn't going to waste. The water finally warmed up and Dean inhaled the nice steam coming from the plugged sink. Some soap was added to the water and Cas's fingers swished around to make it into a kind of bubble bath.

   'Man, I haven't had one of these in ages. Why can't I just join you in the shower?'

   “Because the force of the water droplets hitting you would be like liquid meteors.” Cas intoned and left the bathroom to find himself a change of cloths in the closet. Planning on finally washing his old ones in the sink later. “Now, do you need help?”

   Dean petulantly stuck his forked tongue out but did need help getting in since he wasn't used to walking down anything steeper then an inch on four legs. He felt as though at any minute he would tumble head first. Cas lifted him easily and put in into the shoulder deep warm water. Dean practically melted into it. Wings stretching out and taking up more room then the sink had. He flapped them lazily under the water, feeling the tiny currents flow along his wing fingers and membrane. He bet he could swim like a mutha fucker with these things if given half a chance. Castiel's fingers probed around and started to rub at the membrane, earning a purr from Dean who stopped moving the rest of his body, just to focus on the sensations. He jerked his head upwards again when it dipped below the hidden waterline. Sputtering and coughing and sending death threats to all things bubbly. Cas chuckled a little and moved on from his wings to drag his finger along the neck and spine. The lotion and residue from the fire was finally coming off.

   Dean felt like he was a child being bathed in the sink but he was honestly too tired to care or move much. All the excitement from the day and probably the last whole 6 _months_ were just being washed away like they never happened. Cas had to drain the water and fill it up again, Dean leaning under the nearly hot stream from the faucet to simulate a shower, rinsing off the bubbles. Cas cut a piece of cloth from a clean rag and used that to scrub at the scales. Several of the metal pieces came off and he hummed happily at being able to remove them. Picking them up with his fingers and placing them aside. Dean used his nails and picked at what metal he could reach and they too came off with relative ease.

   'I guess I just needed to get the smoke residue off of my skin first, the metal attached to dirty scales, now that the water and soap are helping they're coming right off. Thanks Cas.' he trilled.

   “You're welcome, Dean.” he grinned down and a few more metal pieces came off without a fuss. Dean's skin never looked so clean. The tiny dapples and changes in color were clearer now, the sound of his fingers running along the smooth snakelike scales actually started to squeak with the finger ridges. If he looked close enough, he could see the freckles again instead of the specks of dirt.

   Dean grabbed the floating tiny rag and curled his tail inward to help him sit down while jutting one leg up. He scrubbed one foot at a time, between toes and under the claws where Cas's fingers were just too large to get to. Cas cut another piece of fabric and set about cleaning the spines along his backbone and neck, everywhere Dean couldn't reach. Dean inspected himself over and Cas lowered a hand for him to perch his front half on while he checked out his lower half that was hidden under the water. Dean even flipped onto his back, water splashing everywhere with his flailing wings, and made sure his underside was clean as well. At least he could still keep his head above the waterline as he inspected the base of his tail and the insides of his legs and feet. Cas felt like teasing and tickled Dean's exposed belly, earning him a full wing flap from both that sent water up at his face. He sent back down a halfhearted glare with a quirked grin as Dean righted himself again in the slippery sink, sending even more water everywhere. A hearty wing flap to get them back in order.

   When each was satisfied, Cas let the light brown water out again and started up the faucet, letting Dean rinse himself off thoroughly as he turned to get his own shower started. There was water everywhere but he planned on wiping everything down with his towel once he's done.

   He heard a tentative knocking on the bathroom door leading to the other bedroom and Balthazar's voice on the other side. “Hurry up, Cassie, there's more then one dirty bastard in this house. You better not use up all the hot water.”

   “Of course, Balth.” Cas said back and reached for Dean's faucet, turning it off on a protesting dragon and then lifted him up from the sink and onto the used hand towel. He searched around and found a fresh towel and washcloth and gave the later to Dean to dry himself off. “I'll be out in a minute.” he announced to Dean and Balth and got into the shower. Thankful that it was equipped with at least an old half filled bottle of shampoo. The hot water felt heavenly but he forced himself to add as much cold as he could stand so that the others would have some heat. Who knew how long the hot water would last. At least Dean got his luxurious bath, he was the only one that had probably never had a hot bath in his whole dragon life. He deserved it after everything he went through. He's now literally squeaky clean.

   Cas's shower was quick and he dried off in record time, hearing the pacing beyond the door. Dean was practically laying down on the counter, wet washcloth next to him and wings fanning slowly to help dry himself. 'That was awesome. Thanks, Cas.'

   “Anytime.” he grinned and got dressed to the sound of Dean pouting about how it was a shame he had to cover up.

   Once the door to the bathroom was opened up, Balth was inside it in a blur, Castiel just barely scooped Dean up before Balthazar's pants were unzipped and he was aiming for the toilet. “'bout bloody time, Cassie.” he muttered and Cas respectfully closed the door behind him.

   Dean folded into himself again in the bowl of Castiel's hand, feeling the cooler air in the other bedroom and they went through to the kitchen. Bobby looked up from the pot on the stove and frowned at them. “All washed up for dinner? Clean behind your ears?”  
'What's got your panties in a twist, Bobby?' Dean asked and Cas translated.

   “Dean is curious as to why you are upset.”

   “Nothin'. Just waiting on you. And need I remind you that there is only _one bathroom_ in this cabin.” Bobby lowered his brow to them and continued, “You could have just put a tie on the door and shut the other bathroom one to your room. Dunno 'bout you but I'm not one for exhibitionism while answering mother nature's call.”

   “Sorry, Bobby. Where's Sam?”

   “From what he texted, somethin' about setting up animal traps outside.” Bobby then texted Sam back to say that the lovebirds were done for the night and that it was safe to come back.

   Castiel brought Dean over to the stove and they both looked into the pot to see a mountain of potatoes infused with spices and in another baking pan was a slab of venison over top vegetables, a maroon hued homemade sauce on the side.

   “Next time you go hunting Boy, try and take down a cow. I'm starting to miss a proper t-bone.” Bobby chided.

   'I did that?' Dean asked, looking at the massive pile of meat. He knew logically that the dragon side had hunted before, but he couldn't comprehend just _how_ he did it. Did he use his teeth to kill it? Or claws? Or did he just sit on the damned thing?

   “Yup.” Bobby said with a healthy dose of pride. “You're pretty good at it too, thanks to your uncle Bobby of course.” Bobby's knuckles polished on his flannel shirt.

   “Dadfriend.” Balth corrected, coming back from the bathroom and thumbing at it for Bobby's turn.

    “Oh yeah, forgot about that.” Bobby mumbled, a gleam in his eye at the reminder that Dean considered him like a father. So much so that when they met him again, that was one of the things that stayed with the baby dragon, the fact that he thought so highly of the old hunter. Remembered him when most everything else was gone. 

    The memory of old Dean's voice after a low time in his life, the 10 th anniversary of his wife's death. A time when Bobby was considering ending it all, and Dean begging him not to. _“Bobby, you're like a father to me._ _You're family. I don't know if you've noticed, but me and Sam, we don't have much left. I can't do this without you. I can't. So don't you dare think about checking out. I don't want to hear that again._ _”_

   Bobby's tear filled reply of, “Ok.” still echo's in his head every once in awhile. His promise not to give up.

   Dean scented the air and could tell what Bobby must be thinking about and ducked his head a little out of embarrassment and understanding, he never liked chick flick moments but that needed to be said back then. Bobby needed to hear that he was needed, loved, and that his life was worth living. 

    Bobby send Dean a little head nod and Dean returned it. 

    Sam opened up the front door and shrugged off his jacket onto the coat rack, seeing everyone else in the kitchen standing around the table. He couldn't really look Cas in the eyes and Dean was too small to tell where his green eyes were focusing on. He nodded at the others and picked up his bag from the hall and took it immediately into the other bedroom. 

    A complicated look exchanged between Balth and Bobby, they both would discuss who all would sleep where that night. 

    “Don't get too comfy in there Sam, we're gonna play some cards later for who gets what bed.” Bobby announced and Dean huff laughed. “What's so funny, Spyro?”

    'I'm gonna beat you guy's asses so bad, all y'all are gonna sleep on the floor!' Dean trill-chirruped. Cas loosely translating for him.

    “If you could hold up more then two cards at a time, that is.” Bobby smirked. 

    'No problem, Cas and me are a team.' Dean straightened up on the palms and aimed his head straight up to Cas's jawline. 'Right Cas?'

    “Uh, yeah.” Castiel looked up and said, “We are a team.” With a nod down to Dean. Glad for the boost in talent for the card game. Of course, with Dean being so small, it didn't really matter who got the beds, he could sleep comfortably on a pillow, or Cas's chest, wherever Cas decided to bunk down. He's good in any case, he just wanted Cas to be comfortable too.

    “Cassie here's never been that great with cards. This should be entertaining.” Balth had a wicked grin and clapped, then rubbed his hands together like a card shark picking his next mark. 

    Dean looked over to Balth's loud hand motions and then to the hands he was sitting in, picturing them being suddenly smashed together with unimaginable forces, and him being helpless to stop it. He squirmed in his seat and looked over to see how far down the table was from where he was sitting. Cas quirked an eyebrow but brought Dean closer to the table top and watched him hastily climb off. Wondering why he felt so uneasy all of the sudden. 

    Dean backed up to Cas's side once he saw where the food was going to be placed on the table. Balth and Bobby and now Cas were placing plates and glasses and silverware all around him and every new bang and clang of the things made the table tremble a little. His heart started to pound again, just when he thought he was getting used to this oversized world. 

    Sam came back into the kitchen and was the first one to notice Dean's unease. He sat down behind his brother and scooted his chair up. He slowly slid his arm in next to Dean, pretending not to notice how Dean seemed to be grateful for the protective boundary between his little body and the huge movements. His wings stopped fidgeting and folded up along with his tail wrapping around his legs. Twitching only a little when the huge pan holding the meat and veggies was placed in the middle, the potatoes and sauce pot not far behind. Each one as big as various hotel rooms he and Sam had stayed at.

    A little tingle of fear made its way back into Dean's head at the idea that all of this food is going to be consumed in no time at all by these 4 giants all looming around him. He still couldn't believe that he had been the one that took down the deer who's flank they were now cutting into with knives longer then he was tall. The tantalizing juices dripped down and the scents were amazing but when he looked from the meat to the others hungry expressions he shrank back a little. An old haunting memory of when he was  _literally_ swallowed whole. People just don't get over that kind of thing.

    He wondered if the others had ever felt uneasy when he would eat such large things. Back when he would hunt down and kill huge animals with the fluidity and ease of a major predator. It must have been even more jarring, but still, he was just one big giant, now, he was completely  _surrounded_ by four giants. All armed with sharp knives. If they wanted, they could kill him in seconds and have him as an appetizer. 

    All of the men made appreciative noises at the feast in front of them and Bobby motioned for them to dig in. The sounds of chewing, cutting, moaning in delight at the tastes, sent him creeping backwards from them. Inch by inch so that they wouldn't notice their potential prey getting away. 

    Logically, he knew that everyone at this table was putting their own lives on the line for his protection, but seeing them now dig into the meat with such huge teeth and knives and everything, it just made him feel so vulnerable. 

   Sam saw that Dean was only a couple of inches from the table's edge and how he tensed up when Sam looked directly at him. He gave a reassuring grin, swallowed his food and motioned with his fork towards the meal. “Better grab some while it's still hot.” He urged.

   Dean nodded uneasily and swallowed. He didn't move a muscle, waiting for Sam's attention to go away. Sam frowned a little and laid his fork down, trying not to startle him.. Regarding Dean's quickening breath. He tried to think of it from Dean's point of view and his frown deepened. Of course this would look different from down there. Cas was eating a piece of meat that was longer then Dean's leg, Balthazar a chunk of potato dripping with sauce that was larger then his head. Even the act of Bobby cutting up his chunk of meat into smaller bites would just remind Dean that even if he was currently too big for one mouth, he could easily be cut up into more manageable pieces as well. Apparently even though the fact remains that he was amazingly far from appetizing, he could still theoretically be eaten.

   “Dean...” Sam started, not knowing how to quell his fears. “Did you uh, did you want to eat somewhere else?” Sam offered, using his hand still resting on the table to point to the counter top.

   The others eyes immediately shot down to Dean and he felt ten times more nervous. Two of them were still chewing. 'No... no I'm good.' he forced out, 'Just uh, I didn't know what to eat first.' he wheedled nervously.

   “What's that?” Balth said around a mouthful.

   “Dean was just saying that he hopes there's enough for him after you.” Sam chuckled and saw the confused glance from Castiel who knew that's not what Dean meant.

   “Blow me, Sam, I am the picture of health.” Balthazar straightened in his seat and cut a portion of venison from the bulk. “Deer meat is very healthy and lean, better for you then beef. We could eat this all day and not gain a pound. Thank you, Dean.” he added with a respectful nod. “You picked the best one for this feast. I doubt anyone could have found such an fine animal in its prime. Cheers.” he lifted up his beer bottle and tilted it towards Dean. The others dropped their utensils and toasted Dean as well.

   Dean was distracted by the compliments. Glad that he did something so well, and that he's able to feed them. A memory surfaced from his early days as a dragon of him hunting down deer in the backwoods at Bobby's. Bobby showing them how to prepare the deer and Dean cooking it up for them using his flames.

   It was still very odd to think that he used to be able to just set fires wherever he wanted. He tongued the holes where his wisdom teeth used to be as more memories were coming up. He found himself coming to terms with the other parts of himself, locked away but now harmlessly seeping through bit by bit. So long as they don't change who he is, he figured he can let his animosity towards them go for now. They haven't tried to take over yet, so they can't be totally evil. After all, it was the hybrid that caught this deer specifically for the others. He was told that the pure dragon just wanted to help protect Cas and his brother, and then the second he sees Bobby and Balthazar, he wanted to protect them as well. Even if it was from an imaginary foe, the Impala. So, he can't really fault the other sides, but it still gnawed at him that they were able to be 'out' for so long when he was locked away in the sub-psyche. Really, he needs to give Balth and Cas a box of cigars or some fancy wine for doing that hypnosis thing on him. Otherwise he would probably still be locked inside his own head.

   Cas eased up his grip on his fork when he felt Dean relax around them all. He hated seeing that look of fear in Dean over and over again. But what other way to prove that they are on his side then to act normally around him. Careful, yes, but not like he's anything but their friend and family.

   Dean was still standing next to Cas's plate, less timid, now wondering how he was going to get some of the food before the others packed it all away. He needn't have worried because Balth seemed to jolt to the fact that there were only 4 plates on the table and came back with a slightly smaller one for teacups. He took a measuring spoon off the counter and rinsed it off before dishing out some of the smaller slivers of deer meat, and pouring a bit of the blood sauce into a shot glass, adding the smallest bit of seasoned potato. Eying up Dean and giving him another couple chunks of meat on the side. Dean had thrown up his last meal and needs more food to bring his bulk back up. The dragon always looked too thin, a life of near starvation at the hands of Alistair and then the military, and now that they could, they wanted him to be nicely plump with full muscles. It's actually too bad that the deer meat was so lean, Dean needs calories and fat from meat. He wished he could just give Dean some sweets but he'd probably throw it up again just like the pies back at the hanger. Which makes sense, Dean is primarily a carnivore, his stomach not equipped to handle vegetables or fruits in large quantities.

   Balth got up from the table and rooted around the cooler, finding and bringing back some warmed up fatty sausage links for Dean. Balth grinned at the light in Dean's eyes when the two links were placed on his little plate next to his deer cutlets and single potato cube swimming in a shot glass of his own recipe for cooked blood sauce, looking for all the world like the tiniest bowl of soup. Dean looked like he wanted to cry. The kid really likes his food.

   Balth preened at the nonverbal compliment to his cooking, and placed the full small plate and measuring spoon in front of Dean, who sat down a few inches away from Castiel's beer bottle. Balth nodded at him and went back to his end of the table and dug into his own food without another word.

   The others ate in peace for a bit, hunger abating as Dean tried to figure out if he was strong enough to lift the 3 inch long ½ teaspoon so he could start in with the soup. It handled like one of those novelty spoon and fork decorations from some 70's style kitchen. Just massive sitting there, the whole thing was not even half the length of the spoon that Cas was holding. The other utensils were clearly longer then he was tall and he frowned at that. The words weak and pathetic echoing in his head as he glared at the measuring spoon.

   Castiel noticed Dean didn't even touch his food yet, even thought he knew he must be hungry. Then saw the measuring spoon being glared at as if it personally offended Dean's mother, grandmother, and humanity in general. Cas laid down his spoon and dug into his food with his bare hands, dipping the deer meat in the sauce and eating it that way. Sam raised an eyebrow but Cas just looked at him then to Dean to get the message across. Sam too started eating the food with his fingers and the others followed suit soon after.

   Dean looked up when he could no longer hear the clinking of silverware and saw that the others were still eating, but with their hands. He hid a grin and picked up one of the sausage links in his hands, using his wings flattened to his sides to balance himself on the table, and started to eat it like a 4 foot long sub sandwich, propped up on the table.

   If the others noticed his tail wagging happily, they didn't comment on it.

   Since it was so late at night, and everyone was simply exhausted, they decided to go with rock paper scissors for who gets the two twin beds. Sam and Bobby got the beds, and Balthazar got the surprisingly comfortable folding cot. Cas won the couch and Dean of course decided to stay with Cas on his chest as promised. Cas wouldn’t make Dean sleep anywhere where it could be dangerous and open. There could be rats and mice everywhere and none would dare harm the slumbering humans. Dean was sold with the idea before outside dangers were even mentioned. Cas settled down on the couch and covered up with a thin blanket and his trench coat over top for warmth. Dean waited on the back of the couch before bravely jumping down to Castiel's chest and burrowing in under the blanket and coat.

   'Better not move in your sleep, Babe.' Dean mumbled half asleep.

   “Never do,” Cas yawned, apologizing for the sight of the open mouth. Dean shrugged. Getting used to the sights and sounds a little. The strong heartbeat slowed underneath him and the warmth just sapped all energy out of his little body. The calm chest, steadily raising and falling, the scent from someone that truly cares about him, combined with the soft sounds of air whooshing in and out, and _especially_ the soft warmth, all lulled him into the best sleep of his life.

   Castiel evened out his breathing as he watched Dean curl up on his chest, _content_ and _trusting_ were words that he'd use to describe Dean right now. He waited until Dean was deep asleep before lightly resting his right hand over him, an added layer of protection and a guarantee that Dean wont fall off or roll over in his sleep. He yawned again and let the soft snores bring him peace of mind.

   All of their troubles are going to be a distant memory, and their lives can finally start anew.

 

   Dean found himself sitting in a folding chair, dressed in a simple black tuxedo and his hair slicked back instead of spiked up like his normal style. He pulls the single half full glass of wine up to his lips and takes another sip. Unsurprised that it doesn’t really taste like anything and when he's done, the wine level is the same. He looks across the crowded decorated room and waves when people see him sitting and they wave back. Holding up their own wine glasses and nodding happily before going back to the snack table or conversing with others. The murmur of the crowd is kinda nice. The bass thrum of music thumping at a steady rhythm. Not really dancing music, but that's fine, the people more content to stand around and talk amiably. Everyone's having a good time and dressed up for the event.

   Sam and Jess are at the other end of the great hall and are both dressed their best. The decorations that litter the entire area point to only one conclusion, this is the after party of their wedding. Dean feels his grin get wider and he wipes away a single tear that falls from his cheek. If he can't have this in real life, at least he can dream it.

   Sam is holding Jess close to his side and is all smiles and dimples. He's got that stupid long haircut still, at least it's been tamed a little, brushed behind his ears. Dean plans on hog-tying him and cutting it off before the honeymoon. Sam doesn't notice Dean yet, too engrossed in chatting up some people he doesn’t recognize because they're facing the other way. The DJ is in the corner, mixing it up and playing something that doesn’t really sound like Sam or Jess’s style but he likes it, maybe Sam threw in a few songs for his brother's sanity.

   Dean goes back to his wine and nearly spits it out when he feels a hand on his shoulder. His head whips up and he sees someone that he didn't really expect to see in here.

   “Cas?!” he sputters a little and looks around. No one else here thinks it's odd that he just showed up and he calms a little. Cas is wearing that trench coat again and looks about as lost as possible.

   Dean grins at him. Glad that his subconscious decided to give him someone to talk to and from underneath the table, he kicks out a chair in Castiel's direction. Cas gives another cursory glance around and takes the seat. Dean can see a black suit underneath the trench coat before it's being pulled around him once he's seated.

   Castiel turns to face Dean again and give a little smile. “Hello, Dean.”

   “Hey.” Dean grins again and offers an untouched glass towards him and angles his own glass towards the bottle of wine he must have stolen from the kitchen. “It doesn't taste like anything, but who cares. This is one of the happiest days of my life.” Dean is all toothy smiles and nods towards Sam and Jess. “Don't they look awesome?”

   Castiel pours himself some of the wine and like Dean said, it is tasteless but he drinks it anyway. The glass looks as empty as before he poured the wine. Resetting to zero again. “Who is that next to Sam?”

   “That's Jess. Sam's sweetheart from law school. I haven't seen her in years... not since...” Dean paused and his smile dropped a few fractions before he shook his head and downed his wine glass which between one blink and another was half full again. “But that's nothing to worry about. Today is a good day.” Dean's smile is back, if a little forced.

   Castiel looks around himself and squints at some of the guests. He actually recognizes a few but before he can say something, they are gone, assimilated into the small crowds. He shrugs and lifts his glass empty to fill it again and tops Dean's off even though a second later it's back to being half full.

   “That's Rufus over there, Bobby is here somewhere too. Saw him sneaking around, trying to find out if the kitchen had anymore peach cobbler. He was with a lady, and I assume it was his wife but I never met her. She looks like the photo's he has around his house. So it's kinda weird with him being 50 something with a 30 something date, but, he's happy.” Dean smiles again and there's a slight sadness in his eyes. Dean turns to Cas who hasn't said much since showing up here. “So, what brings you to the wedding?”

   Cas squirms a little in his seat. “You don't know?” He asked and looked towards the table with the wedding cake. It is covered with blue and green sugar based flowers and designs. Something he would have picked out. Small and to the point. Dean's eyes trail to the table as well before landing once again on Sam and Jess.

   “The cake's pretty cool, I would have preferred pie myself.” Dean stated and held out his arms to show how big of a pie would be a substitute for a wedding cake. “Maybe have one of those stack-able things, several pies instead of the pyramid of cakes. What do you think?”

   Cas noticed some people walking in front of the table in question and when they passed, a new cake was on the table, one that had four layers, bottom cake in the same design as before, but with a pie for the second and third with a small cake at the top. Two figures were on top, and from their table, it was hard to make out exactly what it looked like. Cas quickly looked to Dean who looked to the table as well.

   “Yeah! Kinda like that.” Dean said and his eyes danced around the room again. “Good to know Jess has some taste. Sammy thinks that cake is the same as pie. I think he purposefully botches up the grocery list when it's his turn to stock the mini-fridge at the hotel. Little bitch.” Dean huffs an affectionate laugh.

   “Dean...” Castiel starts and leans forward a little. “Do you know... where we are?”

   That got Dean's attention and he angled his body towards Cas again. “Of course I do, we are at Sam and Jess's wedding. You should know this, you're just here because I'm here. My mind wanted you here.” Dean scooted his chair closer to Cas's and he bumped his elbow into Cas's and rubbed his foot along the black pant leg next to him. “Gotta have my date to the wedding.” and winked at Cas's head tilt and squint. “Adorable.” he mumbled into his never-ending wine glass.

   Cas was at a loss of words for a moment. His eyes drifted around the room again. Seeing Balthazar talking to the DJ who looked a hell of a lot like Brandon. Wes was now seen hooking up or messing with some speakers. He noticed that Dean didn't give them much attention.

   “Hey Bro!” A jovial voice called out and both Dean and Cas turned to see a long haired blond man come up to their table with a cocky swagger. He approached on Dean's side and leaned against the back of his metal folding chair. “How's it hanging?”

   Dean's brow furrowed and he noticed that the short man was facing Cas who could catch flies with how far his jaw had dropped.

   “Gabriel?” Castiel nearly sputtered. His gaze went from Dean to his brother and back. Gabriel looked just like he did the day he ran away from home. He'd gotten some letters and gifts over the years but he wasn't one for 'selfies' so Castiel didn't know what he would look like now. His eyes studied the twenty something critically and in one instant to the next, he was aged a little more reasonably. Still youngish looking but with a few more wrinkles around the eyes.

   “Aren't you going to dance?” Gabriel asked, one eyebrow quirked.

   Dean leaned a little away from the hand on his seat. The dude changed a little in front of his eyes, it must have been the lights overhead. He saw that Cas was squirming a little in his seat but not from embarrassment. He was nervous. “Cas? Are you going to introduce us?” he looked up and over to the blond's face and was clearly confused as to why this joker was hanging off of his chair.

   “Uh, Dean? This.. this is my brother, Gabriel.”

   Dean turned his head up and gave an assessing look before grinning a little and holding out his right hand. “Good to meet you.” he said and Gabriel shook his hand with the energy of a puppy and the guile of a cat. “Cas told me about you, I just didn't think you two would look so different... in any case, feel free to grab some food from the snack table.” he waved his free hand to the table in question and Gabriel practically skipped on over to it.

   Cas said, “You know that was a big mistake right? He will clean us out of everything sugar based before the night's over.”

   “No problem. It's just a dream. I ain't sweating the calories.” Dean raised his wine glass and then stood up. He stretched his back a little and noticed Balthazar again, going over to the guest book table and signing it. “Good to see everyone turned up for Sam and Jess's big day.”

   “Dean.” Cas said a little sternly like he was missing the point. “Why would my _brother_ be at Sam's wedding?”

   Dean shrugged a little. “I figured he was your 'plus one'.”

   Cas motioned at the DJ stand in the corner, “And who are they?”

   Dean shrugged again, leaning against the table. “Who knows, probably just hired hands.”

   “You don't recognize them?”

   “Why would I?”

   “Dean,” Cas stood up too and closed the distance between them, facing the main bulk of people at the hall. “Did you know, that your mind is completely incapable of coming up with human faces? Everyone you see in a dream is someone you met in real life.”

   “Sounds like something Cas would say.” Dean mumbled and kept his eyes on Sam and Jess.

   “That's because _I am Cas_.” Castiel sighed and then pointed out the DJ's again. “That one is Wes and that is Brandon. They are close friends of Balthazar's and I met them a few times when I was trying to find you and Sam and information about the dragons.”

   Dean looked like he ate something sour and frowned, turning away. “No. We are not going to talk about dragons or monsters or anything else supernatural at my brother's wedding.”

   “We aren't, because it's not your brother's wedding.” Cas sighed a little. Apparently Dean was missing something very important. “Follow me.” he stated and grabbed a hold of Dean's tuxedo sleeve. Dean jerked out of the grip and glared at Cas.

   “I don't want to go over there and screw up this time Sam has with his poor dead girlfriend. He deserves some happiness and all I’ll do is screw it up again. Let him be happy Cas.” Dean grit out and said, “My fault she died in the first place. The least I can do is let him have...” he sighed again and waved his hand towards the front of the room. Part of the white decorations faded a little to gray and the shadows darkened. The guests didn't seem to notice anything. “Doesn't matter. I'ts not real.” and he walked towards the liquor table and tried to down a full bottle of wine. Thumping it on the table and practically growling at how full it is again. “Can't a guy get a drink around here?” he nearly shouted at the bartender's back.

   “Deepest apologies, Sir.” a nasally voice said and turned around with a bottle of clear liquid with an old fashioned skull and crossbones as a label. “I think this is what you're after?”

   Dean stumbled a step or two away from the man and ran into Cas who approached from behind, laying a hand on his trembling shoulder. “Not you. You're not real. You can't be here because Sam would never have invited you. You're not welcome here!”

   “ _Dean._ ” Cas sounded upset, “Alistair, get the fuck away from him.” his voice turned into a threatening growl, Cas raised up his hand and aimed it at the sneering face of the torturer and a white glow engulfed the man and he disappeared as if he was never there. Cas lowered his hand again and took a deep breath. “Dean? Are you alright?”

   Dean was staggering backwards and panting, hands came up from people standing around him and patted him on the back, shoulders and arms. He waved the others off but when Cas was about to retreat his own hand, Dean clutched it and held firm. “Cas... Cas that was.. fuck.. that was..”

   “Alistair, I know.” Castiel sighed as if he wasn't surprised to see the grand torturer in this place. “He's here because of you. He haunts your thoughts, dreams, but as long as I'm here, I can help.”

   “What? You're just a part of this dream too. _You're not really here_.” dean started to crumble down, hopelessness in every move and word. “Not really here. Not here. Can't help...”

   Castiel took a breath and held onto Dean's shoulder, his other hand going to help him up from his crouch. “It's going to be alright. He's gone and not coming back. I swear I’ll protect you in here,” Castiel leaned his forehead closer to Dean's lowered brow and motioned with his hand to some _other_ place, “and out there. But, you need to see something.” he stated and once Dean got his feet stable underneath him, he was urged towards the cake table again.

   Sam looked over and grinned at them, raising his glass. The others he was conversing with turned to look at Dean and Cas as well and raised up their glasses. Once Sam got both of their attention, and everyone in the hall, he stated proudly, “Here's to the handsome couple!” and everyone else joined in with, “Here, here!” before nodding in their direction and taking a drink.

   Dean's eyebrows lifted at the sight of everyone looking their way before he noticed the flush of embarrassment on Castiel's face. “Cas?”

   Castiel nodded at everyone still turned their way before grabbing Dean's arm a little more firmly, angling him back to the table. A couple of people parted and Dean and Cas finally got a good look at the wedding pie/cake.

   “Dean, why would Sam have two grooms on a cake?” and waved his hand to the sight. A little plastic couple of husbands holding hands and facing Dean and Cas. He then saw Cas slide his hand down the arm to grab that hand and the other reached for Dean's free hand. Cas looked up into Dean's widening green eyes as they went from cake to Cas and back again. Mirroring the pose the plastic figures were making.

   “Cas?”

   “Yes, my _Husband_?” Castiel said with so much affection and cockiness that Dean was torn between punching him and kissing him.

   “What is this?” Dean asked, his hand grabbed Cas's, but not quite the way Cas was hoping. “What's going on here?” he started to demand while looking around again as if all of the guests were going to start transforming into beasts.

   “This is... uh, what our wedding could look like.”

   “Why did I do this? I'm not marriage material.”

   “Apparently I think you are. And you do to, this isn't just a cake, this is a _pie_ cake.” Cas couldn't help the chuckle at the pure Dean-ness of having a pie cake instead of a regular one. He also figured that Dean would have a little panic attack at the idea of being suddenly married when neither of them actually proposed. “Or, we could go with just pie if you like.” Cas suggested and then the cake parts disappeared and were replaced with pumpkin on the bottom and cherry pie for the top. The plastic grooms were now sinking into the red filling and up to their waists. “I'm sure we can come up with something.”

   “Not real, not real. This is my dream. _Mine._ I wanted to see Sam and Jess get married. That's why they're here. To get married.”

   “Uh, that,” Cas started, looking over to Sam and the blond at his arm. “Yes, I can see how that would look. She's beautiful, Sam is a lucky guy.”

   "Was.” Dean snorted and stormed off to the front entrance.

   Castiel followed after and once they were outside the doors, the bright sunny day turned cloudy. “Maybe we should go inside?”

   Dean didn't seem to hear him, or didn't care. “This is just like the lake isn't it? You show up out of the blue and say that you're real, that you're actually in my dream.”

   “I think, well, it's both of our dreams. Think of the DJ's, my brother, if this were just your dream, you wouldn't have put them in it. The cake wouldn't have changed like that because you believed this was your brother's wedding.”

   “So this is all your fault?”

   Cas didn't see it like that at first. Maybe it is. He got in the way of Dean's dream. A shadow covered them for a second before it moved on quickly towards the gardens and then beyond. A shape in the sky that was blotting out the weak sunlight. A gust of air. A rumble in the clouds.

   “Dean?” Cas started to sound worried and then turned when he heard the door open again and Sam step out.

   “Hey guys, what's going on? Why did you leave?” Sam hugged his arms and walked over to them.

   “Sam.” Dean demanded, “Tell Cas that he's not real, that you're not. That this is just my dream and my fucked up way of handling stress.”

   “Dean? Your dream?” Sam looked confused as hell but was distracted a second later. “Do you hear that?” Sam asked and looked up at the clouding sky. The rumbling getting louder. The others followed suit and when they turned back around, Sam was gone. They both went to the glass doors of the hall, looking for Sam but saw that a portion of people were gone too. None of the ones left even noticed the loss. The wedding pie was still there, and Balthazar was now apparently chatting with Gabriel who had a candy bar hanging out of his mouth.

   “Oh.” Castiel breathed.

   “Oh? Oh what? You know what's going on?”

   “I suspect Sam woke up.” Castiel said and looked to the sky again. A shadow was now seen flying overhead again, circling the hall.

   “What do you mean 'he woke up'?”

   “We were all sleeping, Dean, we took the potion so that we could communicate with you, but something I didn't expect to happen is for us to be joined when we are all sleeping as well. The first time you dreamed it was of Alistair torturing you. I saw it in my mind's eye. It was fuzzy but I knew you were in distress so I comforted you, your dream eased from the nightmare and you eventually started dreaming of fishing by a lake. I know you saw me there too. It was when I nodded off holding you in my arms.”

   Dean was now pacing back and forth on the patio. “So this is real, you are really talking to me in my dream.”

   “Our dream.” Cas corrected.

   “Our dream is to get married?”

   “Sam's as well, since he was here too and congratulating us. It's not just my dream because I never knew what Sam's girlfriend looked like. I also didn't recognize most of the people here. You and Sam do, so it makes sense that this was a joined dream.”

   “Oh sure, that makes sense. So what's that? Who's idea is this?” he pointed up into the sky as the black shape came around again. He could feel Castiel tense up and move back towards the doors. Dean heard words in the rumbling thunder, he somehow heard them and understood. “Mother.” he whispered at the black figure in the sky. His whole demeanor softening, the only anxiety there was now a hopeful one.

   “Dean? We have to leave.” Cas sounded scared.

   “It's ok.” Dean said, reaching for Cas's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “She's not gonna hurt us.” he found himself saying, actually looking forward to seeing her. “She wanted to see me.”

   “Who? That?” Cas aimed his hand to the sky, holding it up as if he was going to dispel it like he did Alistair.

   Dean didn't try and dissect how he was able to make things disappear in dreams but felt a little angry that Cas would want to make her go away like she was the enemy. “ _ **Cas**_. Put your hand down. She's my mother. She's not here to hurt anyone. She likes bipeds.”

   “Bipeds? Dean? What are you talking about?”

   The massive black form came down with grace and thunder, landing in the empty parking lot and folding in her wings with gentle care. She took a few elegant steps closer to them and purred softly at Dean. Love shining in her eyes as she looked at him and then turned her massive head towards Cas. She chirped in greeting and her long nose dipped down to nuzzle Dean's chest. Dean lifted up his hands and laid them on her nose, rubbing the bridge of it and he bent down to hug as much of her muzzle as he could. Unconcerned with how massive and terrifying she could easily look if she meant harm. Now she was like a tranquil panther.

   “So glad you could make it, Mother.” he whispered and his eyes were squeezed shut. She rumbled underneath him and nuzzled him right back, breath coming out in near gusts past his legs.

   Castiel hesitated where he stood, torn between escape and rescue. “Dean?” Worry lacing his voice. He couldn't take his eyes off of the enormous black dragon in front of him. She was easily 40 feet tall, sleek, beautiful and the resemblance was clear that Dean's dragon form came from her's. If he were painted black, he'd look just like her, she was the female version of his form. 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Came to Cas's mind and suddenly there was an apple at his feet, dropped from nowhere. 'Just a dream.' He reminded himself that he wasn't really in any danger here. It was uncanny how real it felt to him, Dean's influence on him making it feel more solid. Mainly because Dean isn't some thing he can control in this dream. People and events in the real world would throw obstacles at him that he wasn't expecting. Here it was taken literally. Cas tossed the apple away from himself and watched it disappear.

   He learned a few tricks years ago on how to control his dreams if he was to become aware of them. Recognizing the differences between the two. A few facts were that words can not be read, lighting cannot be changed by his own hands, and changes in scenery usually were instantaneous, connected to his moods more then will. Once he figured out he was dreaming, the hardest trick to master first was to _remain_ asleep. Then he is free to make small changes here and there. It's rarely a conscious effort, but apparently he got a mental boost when he's connected to someone else's mind. A much larger sandbox. Dean was changing his half of the dream, but only somewhat aware of that fact.

   Lucid dreaming was a favorite pastime of Castiel's. Balthazar first showed him how to do it back in college and every once in awhile he'd try it out again. Manipulating the dream into whatever he wanted. It was how he was able to get rid of Alistair, and he was just about to do the same to the massive dragon on the steps. But then he saw how happy Dean was.

   Dean, who had been cursing her memory out for days, 'If it weren't for her, I'd still be normal and none of these bad things would have happened.' But now it looks like he's forgotten all of that hate and is actually glad to see her.

   “Mother? This is my mate, this is Castiel.” Dean stood next to the sharp fanged mouth attached to the long head that was at least 6 feet tall, not including the horns, and he looked at peace standing there. “He's a nerdy little scientist dude.”

   Cas scowled at him for a second before looking back at the monster.

   Dean's huffing laugh was full of mirthful teasing, “But he's cool. And one day I'm gonna marry this short little guy.” Dean grinned and motioned towards the hall, no one inside seemed concerned with the dragon on the steps, now leaning forward for a better look inside. “Wish you could be there when it happens for real.” he said, stroking his hand along her nose and rubbing his knuckles at the end in the same way he liked it done for himself.

   Castiel took a breath and approached the others, hand held out as if he was going to shake her's but at Dean's snicker he realized what he was doing and his hand hovered awkwardly in the air in front of himself.

   “See what I mean, Mother?” Dean practically chirped and she chirped back.

   Cas's face flushed hotly at Dean and he was about to storm off when Dean grabbed his retreating hand, pulling him closer. Without a word, Cas let Dean pull him over to the black dragon and forced his hand onto her nose and he awkwardly rubbed along the bridge, getting a cooing purr as response. He knew from dealing with Dean's dragon speech for so long meant that she was basically saying, 'Pleased to meet you.'

   “And you as well.” Cas said and got a raised eyebrow from Dean.

   Dean rumble chirped, 'You understood that?'

   “Yes, well, no, I figured that's what she said.” Cas explained and cocked his head at Dean. “That wasn't English.” he stated.

   'Of course not, she's a dragon, Dude.' Dean rumbled. Movement behind his back made Cas startle.

   “Dean?” he said, worriedly, “There's something at your back.”

   'Hmm?' Dean hummed and turned around to reveal to Cas a set of long bat like wings coming from his shoulders and draping down his back and legs. Flexing open and shut a little. Dean's wings, bumpy camouflage an all. Dean turned to face Cas again and shrugged both sets of shoulders.

   “Dean? Are you ok?”

   'Why wouldn't I be, I have my mother here and my mate. I'm the happiest little monster this side of Brothers Grimm street.' he chirped and rested an elbow on his mother's snout. Suddenly, both of them were gone from his sight. Vanished before his eyes as if they were never there. Cas turned quickly and saw that half of the building was missing as well, before everything fell into darkness and he felt as if he was falling.

 

   Cas woke up from the floor, sprawled out and aching from the rough landing. He looked over and saw a pair of long white legs nearby and jolted a little more awake. From this angle, Sam looked like a towering skyscraper with something in his cupped hands.

   “Cas? Man, are you alright?” Sam asked, leaning forward to drop off whatever he had in his hands onto the back of the couch. He reached a hand down and Castiel took it to help right himself. Then got a better hold and stood up.

   “Fine, we're fine. Apologies.” Cas mumbled, turning to see Dean yawning and his wings flaring at the same time.

   Sam swayed a little, clearly not fully awake himself, “Well, ok then. Just letting you guys know breakfast is being made.” Sam said and stumbled off into the bedroom closest to the kitchen. Bobby lost that one and had to deal with Dean and Castiel's bed, with new sheets of course. Those were thrown at Cas to deal with for the night.

   Dean made his way to the edge of the couch and rumbled, 'He said he had a dream that we were in trouble. Woke up to check on us. He doesn't remember much beyond it was at a nice decorated hall and everyone was dressed up when a violent storm struck outside.' Dean sighed and said, 'What did you dream about?'

   Castiel could tell that Dean was still unsure about what went on while they were asleep, but rather then lie, he decided he might as well tell the truth. “Our wedding day.” he stated and saw Dean's green eyes get wide again, “Your mother seems nice.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! I'm glad I had today off to finish writing this chapter, the idea had been bouncing around in my head for a little while since drawing that pic of tiny Dean cuddling with Cas. I imagine that's his perch for their afternoon nap later on.   
> Nothing too dramatic in this chapter, it can't all be torture and sex. Gotta have the sweet moments too :)   
> And as always, if you see a mistake, please lemme know so I can fix them asap! I know it sometimes bugs me when I read them in other fanfics, so I strive to keep mine legible.   
> Btw, I named the chapter first then realized that I wrote a quote from it after, the part about Dean telling Bobby not to give up on life because he and Sam don't have much family left. Good episode! I can't get enough dream sequences!


	26. Make my way Back Home, and I'll learn to Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flying lessons are for the birds.

Chapter Twenty Six:

Make my way Back Home and I'll Learn to Fly

 

 

   'What do you mean, ' _our wedding day_ ',' Dean asked, heart stopping as Cas stood to his full height in front of the couch. The little dragon was now only eye level with Castiel's knees at best.

   Cas bent down and offered Dean a hand, literally, his hand was now resting on the couch, palm side up and waiting for Dean to get on. Castiel could see by the look in Dean's eyes that he wanted to get on but his body wasn't cooperating with the prospect of seeing everything from high up again. He couldn't get his legs moving.

   Castiel cocked his head a little, he could see Dean's willingness to come with him, wherever he was going to continue the conversation at a better elevation for the human's sake, but also the instincts telling Dean not to step foot on the gigantic hand in front of him. He started to wonder if this was going to be a regular thing they'd have to overcome each day. Regaining Dean's trust. He would do it till the end of time if it meant being able to be near him. Dean wasn't the only one that was saved. Cas had started to worry that he'd never find love again. Or find anyone that thought he was more then just a 'weird scientist in a trench coat'.

   Cas gave Dean every chance in the world to back up or say otherwise, as he gingerly lifted his hand to wrap around the little dragon's body securely. Dean held his breath as Cas lifted him up slowly chest height. Knowing that Dean would get over his fears better if he were distracted, Cas continued to talk to Dean as if nothing was wrong, and this was all normal.

   “We seem to have a deeper connection then Sam and I being able to understand you when you speak. I'm pretty sure you know we can feel your strongest feelings, correct?”

   Dean let out his breath and looked up to the huge head above him, looking down at his little form cupped in a hand like he was something precious and loved. Dean kinda liked that, and thought about the question while trying not to blush. Part of him wondering if that was even possible with scales. His emotions would be more apparent if that were the case. 'Yeah, kinda figured that one out. I know what you guys are feeling by my other senses. Smell for one. And at this size, there is no way in hell that I would miss a visual cue in body language or what you're doing with your face. I could tell you guys felt what I felt because your scents had changed along with your whole posture. I tried hiding my little freak-outs but both of you guys saw right through the facade to the creamy center.' Dean smirked a little at his joke but sobered up a little when it flew right on by Cas's head. 'Sorry, I know being able to tell what you're feeling must feel like peeking in someone's diary, I can't help it. And I guess fair is fair, you guys know what I'm going through now too.' he trilled a little nervously, the last edges of panic wearing off now that Cas's other hand was brought up underneath his dangling feet, cupping him with both hands now like a nest. Dean found it oddly comfortable and laid down before he lost his balance on the warm uneven surface. 'Don't know the range on it though... how far I have to be for you guys not to pick up on "Dean Radio".' his clawed hands air quoted.

   “That might be interesting to figure out. But, no bother. It would be a good early warning for myself and Sam if you are ever in danger, we would know immediately. This might be a good thing.”

   'So what about that dream thing though. It's a little fuzzy but, I do remember part of the dream.' Dean started but stumbled on the next thought as Cas started to walk towards the small table in the dining room. The hands were pulled closer to his chest to help Dean's balance but he still rocked side to side with each footfall. Castiel could feel the tiny clawed hands and feet clutch onto his fingers nervously and took his pace slightly slower as if balancing an egg on a spoon. Dean relaxed his grip marginally but he knew the little dragon would feel better once he's on a solid unmoving surface. Once he got there they noticed that Sam was rummaging around, looking for the coffee pot. The others must still be snoozing in the other bedroom, the cot Balth was draped over is set up against the wall opposite Bobby's bed. The half frayed quilt laid half on and half off of the half naked, half sane, Brit.

   The cabin wasn't exactly the largest building in the world. If it were any warmer out, someone would have claimed the chilly basement. But from what Dean remembers of it, it was more like a dungeon then man cave. It's right up a hunter's alley for interrogating monsters, and lacking any 'feminine touch'. Rufus had this cabin for business, not pleasure. He wouldn't have loaned it out to them if it wasn't an emergency because the man liked his privacy.

   'Cas, man, you gotta tell me what you remember of the dream because if it is what I think it is then.. I don't know.'

   Sam sat back on his ankles once he liberated the coffee maker from the lower cupboard and asked over his shoulder, “What was that?”

   “Sam, you, Dean and I share the same dreams. We are in each other's heads when we're unconscious.” Cas stated bluntly.

   'Way to sugar coat it, Cas. But what does that exactly _mean_? Y'all are just hearing me narrate my own version of Fight club? Complete with the other personalities I share in this hide? Or I can see in your library "Mind Palace", Sherlock?' he aimed at the hunter, and then the scientist, 'Or into your "Gray's Anatomy"?' he smirked at his own lame brain jokes again and got the desired eye roll from his brother.

   Dean was let off at the table and he took a few steps back from the edge, not liking the drop off at all. Cas took a seat in front of him, effectively blocking the edge closest to his sight, and Sam started up the coffee before sitting nearby. 

   “Ya'know, Dean, I dreamt that Jess... Jess was alive. And we were together in this huge decorated hall, and then I saw you and Cas there. I think you were there uh, _together_. I said something like congratulations but it's getting hard to remember.” Sam rubbed his hand over his forehead, brow pinched in frustration at not remembering every detail, just the notions and some feelings. He knew it was their wedding day, but did not want to scare them off with that idea. His brother never had much luck with long term relationships. “Right towards the end you guys went outside and there was this thunderous noise and I saw something in the clouds. It jarred me awake. I had to check on you guys."

   Dean nodded, remembering that Sam just disappeared and dream-Cas saying as much. 'That was my Mother, Sam. I mean...' Dean faltered for a second and said, 'The mother dragon that turned me.' And frowned while looking at his clawed hands digging into the old wood of the table. He clucked his tongue and looked over to Cas as if demanding he now recounts his dream. His feelings towards the huge black dragon that turned him were getting all mixed up. He _knew_ her. He knew that she really did like people, and wanted to make them stronger then they were. She wanted to protect them, using her brand of logic, and she _was_ a good mother. She taught him with patience and played with him so he wouldn't feel lonely, or think about what he lost now that he was a dragon. He vaguely remembered his time at the nest and that when Sam and Bobby first showed up, that he thought they should become dragons as well. To be a family. Stronger then before in more ways then one. He remembered encouraging them to meet his mother. Happy that they were all together for a moment. Then as he let the memory play, he saw through his new eyes Sam and Bobby's ploy to bring him home. A small part of him felt betrayed by Sam for the trick, but grateful for it as well now that he's back with his old family. Still... what would it have been like to be in a family of dragons in the woods? With their combined past knowledge and experiences, they could easily avoid humans and probably live a long healthy life.

   Dean frowned when he considered the alternate life. They might not have been caught if he stayed with Mother. It was her grief filled cries after him that alerted the military to her location and brought her down. He's responsible for her being locked up right now. She isn't _evil_ , just naive of the world as it is now. The last time she was awake, was at least 50 years ago. Things changed. Dean and the others could have taught her about how small the world had gotten since then, more connected, the advanced technology making even hidden places exposed. When he first changed, he forgot most of his old life too, if she were human, the world was a very different place back then, even if she did remember parts of her old life. She might even be over a hundred years old, since they hibernate for 50 yeas at a time, it's feasible. She seemed totally dragon though, caring, loving, and obviously misunderstood and seen as a monster just because she is huge and dangerous looking.

   Dean was quiet the whole time he considered the black dragon. Sam picked up on some of it, but let it be, Dean shouldn't have to hide his feelings just because others can pick them up. It must be exhausting hiding the more obvious visual cues. And Dean was good at that, so having a direct link to him felt like he was invading his privacy and chose to ignore it unless it was important.

   Cas studied the tiny face and frowned as well. Clearly Dean wasn't ready to talk openly about the mother dragon and how he feels about her. If she really is like Dean's dream version, she must be kind and reasonable. No more of a beast then Dean. His suspicions of her being a former human were becoming a little stronger. Of course the way she acted could have been Dean's subconscious giving her human characteristics. “Um... as far as the dream goes, I can say that with my training, I remember more of it then you both.”

   “What training is that?” Sam asked, leaning forward with an expression on his face that signaled his eagerness to learn. Dean would have rolled his eyes at that, he knew his brother well and Cas wasn't going to be able to leave the room until Sam was thoroughly educated. But, Dean too wanted to know what Cas was talking about.

   “Back in college and a little after, Balthazar taught me a little about lucid dreaming. How to become aware of dreams as they are happening. And after that, how to control them. It takes months, sometimes years to learn the tricks and if I don't practice it, like any muscle, it looses its tone and strength.” he gazed down to Dean and said, “I'm just grateful I could eliminate Alistair from that dream.”

   “Whoa, wait.. Alistair was there?” Sam gave Dean a worried look which he waved off with a flick of his wings.

   Castiel lifted his eyes to Sam and said, “Yes, but I remembered how to dispel his presence.”

   'Yeah, and you tried to do that to Mother.' Dean bit out at him then caught himself. He wasn't supposed to feel angry for Cas trying to get rid of the monster that ruined his life.

   Castiel rested his hand a little closer to Dean who eyed it a little suspiciously. “I am sorry, Dean. I wont do that again.”

   Dean's wings flicked again in agitation and he nearly spat out, 'Not like I care what happens to her.'

   Sam's eyes softened and he ducked his head down a little, “Dean...” he said far too softly for his older brother's liking.

   'Back to the point.' Dean growled. 'So we can see and interact with each other in dreams. What good will that be?' his little outburst threw the others off for a moment.

   Castiel cleared his throat and gave Sam a meaningful look to give them some room. Sam nodded and checked on the coffee. “Well.” Cas nearly whispered, “If it's just you and I, I'm pretty sure we can do a few interesting things to spend our time doing... because, uh, you see yourself as human in your dreams and we can, you know, _touch._ ” Cas lifted up his index finger on the hand closest to Dean and stroked his wing with a feather-like touch. He wanted to smirk at the shiver of delight that seemed to spark in Dean's eyes. “Or _whatever_.”

   Dean licked his lips and looked over to Sam who either didn't hear any of that or was being polite and not paying close attention. 'I think I might need a little nap later on today.' he winked and wrapped his wing around the finger that stroked it.

   Sam had enough of their mushy staring contest and plopped down two large mismatched coffee cups onto the table not far from Dean causing him to jump a little. He then went back to the counter and retrieved a shot glass of coffee and put it in front of the tiny dragon. “Try a little and wait, I don't know if you'll have a bad reaction to it.”

   'Yes, Mother.' Dean crabbed and took a long pull of the coffee, he would have preferred it with a little more sugar but it still tasted great. Not having had it in ages. The awesome warmth was felt traveling down his neck and to his empty belly. He had to focus hard on not purring as he dove in again, slurping it down before Sam's hands rushed in to pull him off of it and take the shot glass away. 'Hey! That's mine, Sam'squash!'

   “And you'll get it back when you can prove you're not going to throw it up.”

   Dean pouted on the table and looked over to Castiel's unguarded coffee, strutting over to it and scowling at Cas for lifting it up to his lips and far from Dean. 'Traitor.' he mumbled with very little heat behind it.

   Cas had to stifle a laugh as he gulped down half of the black gold. Dean would now have to perch on the rim of the cup and dip his neck and head down pretty far to reach it. It was hot going down but he just hummed at the pleasing taste and pick-me-up. “Good coffee, Sam.”

   “Rufus's secret stash. We are going to have to make a supply run to restock it before he gets here.” Sam checked his watch.

   'When's he supposed to be here?' Dean asked, trying to distract Sam from his still full cup on the table. Sam of course knew what his brother would be after and dumped several packets of creamer in it, knowing how much Dean hates the stuff. 'Bitch.'

   “Jerk.” Sam chuckled and took a swig. “Should be here tonight. Said he had to get some things together, before you ask, no I don't know what they are.”

   They heard some movement from the bedroom and Balthazar stumbled out with just boxers on. “Bless you and your children and your children's children. Even though I don't condone children having sex.” Balthazar mumbled on over to the coffee pot. “I thought I smelled the drink of the gods.” He sighed happily and pulled out another odd mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup, inhaling it deeply and gazing at the table. “Breakfast will be ready in a moment boys. Just need to recharge.” He announced past an expansive yawn, and let the cup down on the table on his way to the food pantry beyond. Before anyone could stop him, Dean dove for the unguarded cup and drank a few huge gulps before stumbling back from enormous swatting hands. Sam would never injure Dean but it was fun to tease him like he was just a kid with a hand in the cookie jar.

   Dean forgot for a moment to be scared and after swallowing greatly, smirked up at Sam and blinked innocently at Balthazar who missed the whole thing as he walked to the stove top with an armful of canned meat and pancake mix. He dropped it off and took another swig of his coffee and squinted at it. Castiel, Sam, and Dean waited but relaxed when Balth shrugged and went back to making breakfast. Sam shot Dean the stink eye but Cas just had a twinkle in his. Sam sighed and let Balth make breakfast, it seemed to make their friend happy to help where he could.

   Bobby was last to get up and yawned loudly. He seemed to have slept in his cloths and didn't say a word before his turn at the coffee pot. The others start to talk about what they could do to pass the time because it looked like they were going to be there for awhile.

   Sam spoke up, “Well, one thing we must do, is to get Dean back into fighting shape.”

   'Screw you, Bitch, I've been fighting fugly's my whole life.'

   “As a _human_. With _weapons_.” Sam pointed out. “The biggest living thing you fought in the last 7 months hand to hand was a bear and that was back with the hybrid in charge. You had the animal instincts going for you. You might have to fight off another dragon if Meg's message is right.”

   'I took on an _army_ , Sam. And hunters. I remember the armored trucks. The helicopter.' Dean firmed his glare. 'And Michael's men, the monsters from the zoo, and _Azazel. Alistair._ ' Dean practically growled, 'If I can take them all on -'

   “Yeah? You took them on and got your ass whooped didn't you?” Sam nearly shouted, regretting it instantly. Memories of his own guilt at not being able to save Dean bleeding into blaming his brother for starting this whole mess in the first place 7 months ago. A torrent of emotions swirled in his head until he calmed it down. Knowing that Dean can feel him loud and clear. Dean knew exactly why Sam was pissed and scared and his own guilt was ratcheting up for making his little brother worried and angry. Cas was frozen in place, not knowing what to say because this is between the two brothers. Bobby and Balth taking Castiel's lead, but still tuned into the conversation as much as possible.

   Sam's voice softened and he sat down in front of Dean again. “All I'm saying is, is that it wouldn't hurt to train, right?” the cajoling tone he ended with was a little patronizing.

   Dean lifted up his lips to show off his fangs at Sam. He doesn't need this bullshit. Dean turned from Sam and started stomping towards the edge of the table, Cas's hands held at the ready for him. He momentarily forgot that he had no way off of the table by himself. Not this small. And he wasn't about to suddenly start flying any time soon. He stopped just short of the hands and hissed at them. Cas could sense that it wasn't him that Dean was angry with. Just the situation in general.

   “Dean?” Cas tried next. “I want to train _with_ you. Alongside you. I don't know much about fighting and with you being a hunter, you can help me out.” his voice almost sounded pleading.

   'I know what you're doing.' Dean grit out. He could feel the eyes of everyone on him again. The feelings coming at him in waves. Pity, sadness, frustration, and that undercurrent of love. That last one was from all of them. It helped calm him down a little to think before speaking. The confused looks that Balth and Bobby were giving him from across the kitchen reminded him that the Sam and Cas weren't translating everything for him. Those feelings from them were based on how he was acting and sounding more then what he was saying. He must look pretty pissed off and frustrated. Accurate summary.

   Sam brought over the shot glass and put a fresh tablespoon of coffee into it to warm it back up and give him a little more then before. He mumbled something like an apology. He was treating Dean like a child, keeping things from his reach. Dean's anger melted right away and he just huffed to let out some of that tension. Walking back to the chest high glass and drinking a little more, barely a sip because at the end of the day, he really didn't want to worry Sam. A tiny sick dragon isn't something that his brother could easily take care of. Dean knew that Sam loved being able to look after his older brother every once in awhile, feel like he's giving something back since Dean always gave his all for Sam, in _both lives_. But this was beyond his knowledge, anyone's knowledge. Dean couldn't afford to get sick or become weak. Especially now that several hammers are hanging over their heads. It all depends on which hammer will drop first, Azazel's? Michael's? The military? Or any number of unseen forces. Hell, if regular hunters got wind of him they'd have their hands full. They can't afford to have their biggest asset being laid up with the sniffles.

   It would be nice if this body came with an instruction manual, or even a 'care and maintenance' pamphlet. His stomach seemed to be alright but he honestly didn't want to push it. The rest of him could use a tune-up, Dean didn't like seeing his bones sticking out like that. What happened to all that muscle he had when he was younger? Oh right. Damn near stationary imprisonment for months without any chance for exercise. Yeah, that would get rid of his washboard stomach. He huffed a little laugh, his chest's scales were better suited as a old fashioned washboard then any human's. It was still hard to think of himself as anything other then human. He had to _own_ this body, acknowledge it's his and make it better. Get better, faster and stronger and now he has that song stuck in his head. Great. Now the rest of the day's going to pass with Daft Punk repeating motivational soundbites in his head. Too bad it wasn't Eye of the Tiger.

   'Fine. Training will start today but _after_ I get some more of that sausage. That shit was good.' Dean lightened the mood with a firm nod at Balthazar who was still at the stove, making pancakes at the moment. Cas translated for the others and Balthazar winked at him.

   Bobby thought that it was just too quiet in the cabin and needed some background noise so he turned on the dusty old radio in the living room. Then they all settled down at the kitchen table, Balthazar set out the breakfast for the 5 hungry men while an upbeat song played on the radio. Balthazar starts belting out a laugh as he leaves the table to turn up the volume, looking right at Dean who squirmed a little where he's sitting on the table next to Castiel's plate.

   Balth raises an eyebrow and gestures to the radio then to Dean who trill-chirped at him.

   “I don't get it.” Cas says for Dean.

   “Imagine dragons!” Balthazar shouts and clutches his side as he laughs at the rest of the table's inhabitants. “Oh, never-mind, you lot are more into the stylings of mullet rock, this music is wasted on you.” he mock sniffed and dished up some scrambled eggs onto a large plate.

   Bobby was finding that Balthazar had nearly too much pop culture knowledge, but at least he was diverse in his interests. Bobby's was on research and hunting mostly, those required silent rooms for him to be able to concentrate but every once in awhile he'd play some Joanie Mitchell or play one of Tori Spellings movies in the background. Not that anyone needs to know that...

   Castiel found that he liked the song on the radio and started to bounce his fork in time with the beat.

   Balth humming along and singing, “I wanna shelter you but with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide.” he petered off when he realized the lyrics were a little too spot on, and hummed instead. Seeking a less cryptic mood as several eyes landed on Dean with mixed feelings.

   Dean took a few steps back and eyed up the huge humans right back. Dean felt like he was on display again with it being just him, some plates and their mugs on the table. He also felt uneasy about being surrounded on all sides with resting arms and elbows of his friends and family. basically penned in. He wished like hell he could just flip a switch and not get stage fright so damned easily, it wasn't simple, not until Balthazar brought over a few heaping plates of pancakes and the rest of the scrambled eggs, giving the others something else to focus their attention on. Each plate of food was easily taller then him sitting down. The sausage was on the other side of the table. He'd have to trek over there...amid flying forks and grabby fingers. It would probably always be a little weird and disturbing to see the others bite into things that were half his size. Chewing up sausage links that were as long as his arm and pancakes that were as big as his wingspan. Sam and Balthazar leaned across the small-to-them city-block-to-him, table, and pulled their preferred food over to their own plates. Bobby setting up Dean's plate for him and foregoing the cutlery this time around. He was generous with the meats. Dean chirped at him in thanks and got a tip of his faded ball cap.

   “If you want toast ya gotta make it yerself. I'm not a psychic, I don't know how you like 'em.” he groused after setting Dean's plate in front of him, and flopped down to a sit as well. “There's jam packets in the cupboard.” he pointed with his fork while staring at his plate with hungry eyes.

   Dean decided not to push his stomach any further, and stuck with meat, the coffee was settling oddly in his stomach and he knew he'd probably need a trip to the little dragon's room after breakfast. He just remembered that the morning routine was kinda messed up. Not that he was used to one to begin with, but some things were a given.

   “So,” Balthazar started after most of the meal was done, “What is up on the docket for today?”

   “Welp, I think Sam here needs to train Castiel and Dean how to fight. You are coming with me.” Bobby said, pouring himself some more coffee. “You'd be more useful to us if you'd to learn how to shoot and how to work the mini drone we've got once it's done charging.”

   “I can fire a pistol just fine. And since when did we get a drone?”

   Sam swallowed his mouthful and said, “Few months ago, I used it when I was trying to find Dean. We were able to slip it inside your warehouse and see you feeding him pie.”

   Balth nudged Cas's arm making his eggs fall off of his fork, “Told you I heard something!”

   Cas grinned and said, “Ok, alright, I'll 'assume the position.'” he air quoted and got up from the table. Balth looked very pleased with himself as he strut behind his best friend and kicked him in the ass. Just once, and Cas hissed in pain for a second.

   Dean wanted to lunge off that table and beat the ever loving snot out of Balthazar but was caught in mid leap by Cas who started to stroke his fingers along Dean's spines on both sides to sooth his mate. “It's alright, Dean.” He soothed. Balth just plunked his own butt back into his seat and bit into his sausage link with a genuine look of triumph.

   “Mind sharing with the rest of the class?” Bobby quirked an eyebrow at them.

   “Inside joke.” Balth waved a dismissive hand and pointed the stub of sausage at Castiel's face, “I'm gaining on you.” to which Castiel shook his head affectionately.

   “You'll never beat me Balth, because most of what you say is malarkey.” that just got a cheeky grin from the Brit and an eye-roll from the sex haired man.

   “If you children are done with your high school grade shenanigans, - ” Bobby started dramatically.

   “College grade, be fair!” Balth interrupted around a mouthful of masticated sausage.

   “Then why don't you boys get ready for the day.” Bobby admonished like he was their dad. “And wash your own dishes. God almighty I'm working with idjit children.”

   Castiel volunteered to wash and Dean was about to sneak out of cleaning but he found himself dwarfed in a dry hand towel, wings flapping and squirming to get it off. Sam's voice filtered through somewhere overhead. “All gotta pitch in short stuff.”

   'You're the short stuff... short bus.'

   “Witty.” Sam said dryly and was heard putting the dirty dishes somewhere nearby and the cooler being opened and shut. “Hey guys? Lemme know what you want when I'm out getting groceries. Non-perishable. Gotta get more ice or get the generator for the fridge going again. Otherwise we are going to be eating eggs and milk for lunch.”

   Dean finally uncovered himself, finding the dishtowel larger then any king sized bedspread he'd ever seen. Cas dropping the dishes to the sudsy water, and he picked up Dean in his towel and set him off to the side, far away from trouble. Dean was a little insulted that Cas didn't think he could dry a few dishes on his own so after they were rinsed, he grabbed his towel and dragged it on over, using his splayed wing thumbs and hands to push it around the plate. It took him about two minutes to dry each plate and it was a nice workout in any case. Cas finished up the pots and skillet and helped him dry the rest. Dean would have had to jump into the pot to dry the inside and that might seem humiliating or make him uneasy. So, Cas dried the larger pieces and the silverware since Dean couldn't lift them up and put them into the slots. Dean dried a few cups after the five plates and noticed that Cas was already done with the rest, not looking in his direction to avoid making him feel bad, it was as if he just finishing up his side of the chore.

   'Feel like I'm stuck in a _Full House_ episode.' Dean mumble quipped and let Cas hang his half damp towel up to dry. Cas then gently and wordlessly lifted Dean off of the counter and carried him over to the coffee table in the living room. The red couch not far away, was where Balth was sitting and where Cas hunkered down. Sam was in the dining area, writing up a list of things they needed but would get later when the others would be recuperating from the sparring lessons. It would be nice to get himself back into shape as well. It's not like he was slacking but he missed his sparing partner. Dean would always push Sam to his limit and they both became fluid-like in their stances and attacks. They trained for so long that they could anticipate the others moves on their monster opponents and take them out before the creature knew what hit them. 

   Sam had never had to train something other then human before, so this would be interesting. Dean was still Dean but it was obvious that his older but far smaller brother would have a hard time getting back into the game. Especially since there's a very real possibility that he will have to fight while still in that body. Whether he's big or small at that time has yet to be seen. Something they kept discussing, now it's actually time. He set the list aside along with the pen he was using so the others could add what they wanted to it.

   He found them chatting a little about how Dean could start by learning how to fly. Dean was less then thrilled. 'It's not like any of you know how these things work, how the hell could you help me out?' he flapped his wings a little for emphasis.

   “I am not going to force you, we are merely saying that it could be useful.” Cas said patiently. He could feel some of Dean's anxiety bleeding through their link. “It doesn't have to be long distance. We could have you start small and work your way up.”

   'Baby steps, huh?' Dean muttered and looked over to the couch like it was a plateau adjacent to his own. At least it had a soft surface and waiting hands if he stumbled. He took a few steps closer to the precipice and shivered a little. Wings trembling at his sides before snapping closer to his body. 'No. This is stupid.'

   A long suffering sigh escaped Balthazar before he said, “You can jump down from the back of chairs and couches to the seat cushions, yes?” He waited for a replying head bob before saying, “Just do that but towards the floor. And you literally cannot miss hitting the floor. It's not that big of a drop. 'Bout the same really.” He used his hands for measuring the back of the couch to the seat and then his coffee table to the floor. “Less then that.”

   'But Cas was right there to catch me if I fell.'

   “And you think he's not going to be there this time?” Balth raised a good question. Castiel slid off of the couch to sit just in front of it and the short table Dean was standing on.

   Castiel lifted a hands like an eagle with wings and flapped them very slowly on the way to the floor. “I'd imagine it's like jumping but stalling on the landing part. Hold your wings open and let them catch some air on your glide down. Pretend your wings are like an umbrella slowing the descent.” and then made the hands cup side down for emphasis.

   Balthazar had a cheeky grin and added, “Just throw yourself at the ground and _miss_.”

   “I do not understand that reference.” Castiel stated, head tilting up towards Balthazar.

   “Uncultured swine. That's from _Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_.” he scoffed, “Read a book,” then turned to Dean with an expectant look, like Dean a small whining child asked to do a simple task and refusing to just do it. He raised an eyebrow at him.

   Dean made a face at Balth, complete with flicking tongue sticking out in a move that was eerily similar to flipping the middle finger, but received another raised eyebrow for stalling. Two eyebrows mean business. 'Fine.' He trilled testily and opened up his wings to their fullest and walked to the edge of the table again, seeing that Cas's legs were now closer then the floor. He could jump to the toned legs of the man he adores first, which was like a 12 foot drop, or the impersonal and cold floor which was about 20 feet below. Equivalent to a two story building.

   Lap it is. Dean took a big breath and jumped off of the edge of the coffee table and glided the very short distance to Castiel's lap but ended up running into his belly because he got a bit of distance with that leap. Cas's hands immediately enclosed around him and after checking him over for injury, set him back onto the table with his eyes beaming with pride. Dean ruffled his wings and flapped them a couple times, a little embarrassed at the silent praise in his lover's eyes. You'd thing the sun shown out of Dean's scaly ass with the admiration coming from his human. He decided to have another go and started aiming his next leap for the floor. His wings were stiff as a board as he jumped and glided a little further, ending up underneath the tall couch. He skittered a little and looked up and over to the others looking down and under at him. He had a second to look around from this point of view and gulped at how much larger things looked from the floor. Dust bunnies clouded his vision because apparently no one thought to move the couch to sweep underneath it in twenty odd years. There were several bullets and shotgun shells that had rolled under it, along with a few slips of paper that were copied from books or scrolls. Two ink pens, 4 sticks of white chalk, and a large swirly blue marble. That one seemed out of place more then the others. He could see movement from the other side of the cabin from under the couch. Bobby was doing something but all he could see were legs. He turned towards the loud shuffling sounds of fabric sliding against the couch's blankets.

   Balth was leaning forward to see him underneath, his hair flopping down, nearly touching the floor, and his eyes squinting with pride as well. The rest of his face was blocked with the edge of the couch, voice muffled a little, “Good job, Squirt. Now go to the other side and try flapping this time. There's more room over there.” The huge eyes flicked back to the coffee table before the head lifted from view. The pair of socked feet slid away from the little dragon to give him some more room so he wouldn't feel crowded.

   Before Dean could even show his unease at coming out of this nice cozy area he found himself in, Cas was already getting up and settling down on the floor on the larger open area in front of the old TV. His large hands out in front of him as if he planned on catching Dean from mid air if he faltered even just a little. It sparked something in Dean, he wanted to show them that he doesn't need a safety net for such a drop.

   He left the safety of the underside of the couch and entered the light of the room again, feeling a little exposed. He actually wouldn't mind spending a little more time under the furniture if it meant not having such a cathedral like ceiling overhead. He didn't feel as small under there.

   Balthazar lowered his hand down and Dean got on with careful steps. He found the ride like an escalator more then elevator because Balth was lifting him up vertically and diagonally from the floor to the new height. Balth then laid his hand down in the center of the coffee table and Dean got off quickly. Just because he trusts everyone here, doesn't mean that he likes the idea of them being able to carry him around and grab him with ridiculous ease. Balth leaned back in his seat again and watched Dean walk towards the side Cas was on. It was so amusing to see something so small move around of it's own free will. Balthazar hates rats, but the little guy doesn't resemble one much. Still, he'd hate to wake up to the little sharp spiked dragon scurrying along the floor in the middle of the night. God he hoped Dean wouldn't find out about his extreme dislike to rats. There would be no end to the prank wars. Maybe a hamster ball wouldn't be such a bad idea to buy... Balthazar looked over to the list Sam was compiling in the dining room area.

   Dean paid Balth no more mind as he faced Castiel again. Already the distance down doesn't seem so intimidating. It's like jumping off of the high dive. The carpet may be old but it is better padding then the hard wood floor that was everywhere else in the cabin. Better to train here then at the tall kitchen table. Of course, that's probably next, after he masters this little hurdle.

   Dean started flapping his wings before he even started for the edge. Determined to make it to Cas's lap without fail this time. He pushed off of the table, leaping full on towards the edge but had a split second of indecision that made him stumble just before falling awkwardly off the table. He landed only a foot away from the table leg on his side. Hissing in pain from twisting his wing wrist. Cas scooped him up instantly and inspected his whole body, lightly pinching the sore wing wrist between two huge fingers and flexing it outwards very carefully and slowly before bending it into his normal folded wing shape. Dean bit his lip and shook himself out again. Of course Cas would know how his wings were supposed to bend and fold, he'd been studying this body for weeks. He probably knew more about it then Dean did, at least the medical treatment side. Cas had a unique view on it when Dean was full sized, each muscle, tendon and bone much larger then any bird or bat ever in existence.

   'Just sore. Nothing's broke Babe.' he chirped. 'I've had worse.'

   Cas frowned at that. “Just because you've had worse does not mean that you deserve to be in pain.” He stated a little angrily and cupped Dean to his chest.

   'Dude! I'm fine!' He pushed a little against the immovable wall of fabric. 'Besides, I'm pretty sure that my future opponent isn't going to go for a time-out in the fight scene.' Dean struggled to free himself from the hands that easily overpowered him. 'Little help, Sam?'

   Cas turned to see Sam leaning by the front door, watching them out of the way. “He's right, Cas. He's gotta learn how to deal with pain when he fights or flies. Makes us stronger.” He walked closer to the others and sat on the couch next to Balthazar. His hands went out towards Dean and Cas reluctantly passed him over.

   Dean hadn't spent much time in Sam's hands and was a little weirded out. He knew his brother inside and out – sewing up wounds, and treating injuries for so many years made them both aware of every major artery, muscle bone and tendon, and how to repair it with no time to spare. (Werewolves did not wait for proper medical treatment.) Sam's hands still had the same lifelines, wrinkles and endless scars but now they seemed more intense and real. Dean instantly recognized the long and prominent V shaped one from a broken bottle Sam landed his left palm on. Dean stitched it up himself and now could see where every entrance and exit his needle made in Sam's palm. He trailed his small hand over the raised white line and frowned up at Sam.

   Sam silently expressed his opinion on the matter, gratitude for the quick thinking and actions of his older brother. He came to like the scar instead of loath it. It was a permanent reminder that Dean would rather stitch up Sam's hand first, over his own broken toes. Sam only found out about it after they had killed the 'monster of the week' as they called it. Sometimes there were more monster hunts then memories. Sam angled Dean's body onto his left palm and wiggled Dean's wing with his wide right thumb, index and ring fingers. “Seems like it was just strained a little.” He surmised and looked into Dean's green eyes, “You good? Or you wanna tap out and I can start training Cas how to throw a decent punch.”

   Dean clearly considered it and shook his head. 'If I can learn to fly, then it'd be easier for me to take out all of the bad guys before they can get to you guys. Flying is a higher priority. Though, I wouldn't mind watching Cas get all sweaty...' he purred a little and nickered at Cas who blushed.

   “I missed something.” Balthazar stated and shrugged. “Have fun lovelies. I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of odds.” he stated and left to discuss battle plans and strategies with Bobby. His giddy desire to mess around with a flying drone was not missed.

   “It's alright Dean, you rest up and practice flapping your wings the right way to get some lift.”

   Dean felt a niggle of irritation at the tone Sam was using, as if Dean just had to flip a switch and everything will be right with the world. That Dean was just being lazy or something. 'I'm doing my best.' he grit out, getting a little peeved.

   “Hey hey, look, I'm not saying you aren't.” Sam held up his hands defensively. “It's just that, maybe you're thinking about it too hard.”

   'You try and fly by flapping your arms! See how far that takes you. Oh that's right, you don't have to, you have other ways of fighting and defending yourself. You've got the ability to handle all the weapons we have. You don't need to rely on limbs that practically have a mind of their own, or get in the way like this damned tail.' It started to thump the ground as if it heard the smack talk about it. 'I'm smaller then most of our guns and knives. And even if I _was_ your size, I still wouldn't be able to hold a shotgun or knife without falling on my face. Can't walk or even stand anywhere without having to use my hands. Do you know how demeaning this feels? It's like I'm crawling everywhere. And being bite sized doesn't help in the _least_. Everything is intimidating, and I mean _everything.'_ he waved a hand around to the room that seems to go on forever from his spot. 'This is not as easy as it looks.' he stated the most obvious thing that came to mind.

   Sam and Cas looked at each other and then down to Dean who was now pacing back and forth. He really was out of his element right now. It must be very difficult to alter human thoughts and tendencies with the body he's forced to use now. To exacerbate things further, he's too small to do much for himself, relying on the others for literally everything.

   'Stop looking at me like that!' Dean snapped, wings flaring.

   “Like what?”

   ' _That!_ Like you feel sorry for me. Just stop. I'll get over this problem _by myself_. All you guys are doing is making me feel like a child.' more terse wing flaps, 'Look, I'm _trying_ alright? I can't just get over my phobias like that.' He went back to pacing, glaring at the floor below his table. 'I mean, Sammy, you are afraid of _clowns_ for God's sake!'

   Sam's frown turned into a scowl. Dean would have been intimidated by that but he turned to face Cas next. 'What are you afraid of? Huh? Is it something you can just 'get over'? Is it something you're having to deal with right now? Or when the enemy might be at the door? Have you had it shoved in your face by everyone you know?'

   Cas looked upset but more for Dean's outburst. This must be more important to Dean then they thought. Dean didn't seem to mind too much about being carried around before, as if he'd gotten used to it fairly easily, but maybe he was hiding it better and now all of that stress is spilling out. He decided to share his own fear, maybe it would help Dean out. “My phobia isn't something that I like to tell people. I have been struggling with it my whole life. It has kept me from doing a lot of things that I wanted to do when I was growing up. People thought I was strange and my aloofness only added to their skewed view of me.” Cas started, crouching down to rest on his ankles in front of Dean. “I know it would sound crazy, but I have several social phobias.” He held out his closed hand, lifting a finger as he listed them. “Fear of public speaking, fear of meeting new people – or strangers, fear of letting people down, fear of large crowds which in some cases can turn to agoraphobia in people. I haven't let mine get that bad. I did not interact much with people when I was a kid. I had a very lonely childhood. Having a strange name didn't help matters in the least, I was teased and bullied and after awhile, I learned how to avoid people, staying inside during recess just so I wouldn't have to deal with them. The librarians knew me well and my science teachers let me stay after school for an hour a day just so I wouldn't have to run into any classmates on my way home.” Castiel sighed as if a weight was being lifted, sharing this, “I wanted to make friends, but my fears kept me from forming close bonds to people. Balthazar basically shoved his way past my insecurities and became my closest friend for decades. The only other ones that were slightly closer then acquaintances were his friends and my former coworkers.” he looked over to Dean and then up at Sam, the unspoken appreciation for accepting him into their family was heard loud and clear.

   Both Sam and Dean were quiet while he spoke, they had been bounced around from school to school so often that after awhile, they stopped trying to make friends and then to even learn people's names. Sam longed to stay in once school long enough to make close friends but each time he did, their father would find another long term hunt and they'd be pulled from that school. The brothers always had each other and learned to not need anyone else. Sam could tell that Dean needed other people as well as him, and even though he hated school and avoided classmates, it was a conscious effort to do so because he did not want to loose anymore friends. This was about the time that he started dating girls for only a few weeks at most. Playing off of his 'bad boy' reputation of love 'em and leave 'em. He did want to keep them, but the transient nature of the hunting job kept him from making deep connections.

   When the brothers became adults and hunters themselves, their new friends consisted mainly of fellow monster hunters. Most were too rough for a relaxing night out. More interested in weapons and the job then anything. Dean always had his charm and good looks, so it was easy for him to find a temporary fling to ease his need for others in his adult life. But it just isn't the same. A band-aid on an open gash.

   Castiel continued, “I didn't get over my phobias, but I learned to work through them. It was not overnight. Balthazar really helped get me out of my shell in high school and literally saved my life more then once in college. He accepted me as I was and he was the first person I came out to as Bisexual. He never hid what he was, at least, not to me. The only thing he hid was his arrest.” Cas looked over to where Balthazar left to find Bobby. Really, he should have known that his best friend wasn't visiting family, he'd mentioned being disowned, but Castiel thought that he was busy reconnecting with the other side of his family. He had no idea that he was arrested in the south for basically being homosexual. Of course, that was decades ago, times have changed but there are still a large number of people out there that have such irrational hatred for gays. Balthazar came back from his time imprisoned a little changed but still remained Castiel's friend and confidant.

   If anything it strengthened their friendship. Balthazar would help out other wayward people and Cas got to know them and bring them in as their new little family. The online community was amazing as well, since most of them used aliases, they were free to be themselves without worrying about real life repercussions. In a way, they knew more about them then their own family, and were no less important and cherished.

   A moment went by after Castiel told them about his past and Sam wanted to turn it into a motivational speech. Dean could just see the cogs going and it kinda ticked him off that he would use Cas like that. Even if Castiel was probably going that route anyway, Dean felt like they were ganging up on him, trying to downplay his fears just because Cas got over his.

   'This is a little bit different then not being able to speak in public.' he flapped his wings and folded them up again. He didn't want to hurt his mate's feelings at all, and was touched by his open and honest confession, but the fact remained is that it was different then the situation he's in. 'If I fail to be able to fly properly, I could break a limb, not just be embarrassed in front of people. And Sam, your fear doesn't really come into play all that much. It's easy for you to avoid clowns, and it never sent you to the hospital.'

   “You're kidding me right?” Sam scowled a little, “What about that Rakshasa? The clown that _kills_?”

   Dean grumbled, 'How often did we run into one of those?'

   “The haunted costumes? I had to take down an innocent guy wearing the haunted clown suit without hurting him, while he was trying to kill me! And the drawings that came to life at Plucky Peniwhistles?” at Cas's confused look he clarified, “A hunt we did where a disgruntled store employee brought children's scary pictures to life to kill their parents. He figured out we were onto him and made a few clown pictures come to life to try to kill me. Nothing I did stopped them, Dean had to destroy the alter and the spell caster otherwise I would be dead.”

   “Coulrophobia, the fear of clowns, is very real Dean. The base of it is a person concealing their identity, the mind cannot distinguish the smile painted on the face with the scowl or frown the person... or, monster has. The inability to interpret facial expressions provokes fear in many people. Grossly deforming facial features into a parody of color and manipulation, it's a wonder more people are not afraid of clowns.” Castiel looked down to Dean with a new sense of awe. How the hell did these two manage to get rid of so many frightening supernatural creatures and events when they were battling their own fears and phobias?

   “Listen to this, Dean, remember when you were able to get over your fear of flying when we took out that demon that was crashing planes.” Sam reminded his older brother. “You didn't let it stop you from doing the job.”

   'That was in a huge plane, Sam. I didn't have to look down from the window every second. If I'm flying by myself under my own power, _I have to look down._ I can't just ignore the fact that I'm hurtling through thin air!'

   “He has a point.” Castiel noted to Sam. At Dean's smug look he amended for Sam's benefit, “But an animal with wings such as yours is literally _meant_ to fly. Your hybrid self was able to fly long enough to take out several armored trucks and even a helicopter. Your body knows how to fly.” he then added, “There is a difference between being scared of heights and being scared of flying.”

   That got twin looks of confusion so he elaborated. “When you are in a very tall building, you are still standing still. The ground doesn't move but you can get vertigo if you look out of the window, your body tells you that it _could_ fall even if you're protected inside a structure. When we carry you around, you trust us to keep you secure and safe. It feels like flying because unlike a building, we are moving. And like you mentioned, when you're flying, there is a risk of falling, it is basically a controlled fall.”

   'Not helping, Cas.'

   Sam added his two cents, “When we spar or when a monster throws you across the room, we've learned how to fall the right way so we don't end up with broken bones. Hell, it's happened often enough we can do it when we're nearly unconscious!” Sam made a pretend toss into the living room wall. “All you have to do is delay that landing, and when you do land, do it in a way that keeps you from getting hurt. Fold the wings in before you touch down so you don't land on them. Try and keep your legs half bent so that they absorb the impact, and if nothing else, land on your side where there is more padding and surface area so no single bone takes the brunt of the pressure in landing.

   Cas offered, ”Think of it as you being in control this time, not some pilot you've never seen or met. Or, do you think it would it help if I carried you around and you flapped your wings to get used to how they move when going through the air? I can hold onto your hands and feet tightly so you still feel secure and can practice without loosing your balance.”  Sam seemed to really dig that idea too.

   'Training wheels?' Dean practically winced. 

   “You got a better idea?” Sam bit back. He was getting tired of Dean stalling. Who knew when they'd need to fight, when Alistair, Azazel, Michael or the military finally tracks them down. If Dean can't even get off of the floor by himself, he's a goner. His only chance at survival at this size is if he can make it to safety, and the ground is anything but safe, especially outside. Any animal at all can hurt him, any person can outrun him if they chase him down. His only chance lies in the trees and skies. There, at least he'll be able to move fast enough to avoid most projectiles. Dodging them as he escapes to a place where they cannot reach without ladders or climbing gear. Sam just wanted Dean to have every chance in the world to defend himself while he's so little, and maybe, when he gets back to his 30 foot tall body, and if they're cornered again, he can fly over the enemy and dive bomb them again like he did the armored trucks. Only now that he's basically doubled in size, he could probably crush a tank if he wanted to just by sitting on it. If not that, they still need him to be able to fly because he might have to fight the big mother after they release her, or the other dragon Meg was talking about. A flying dragon on their side is far better then a grounded one.

   Dean was just this side of too irritated at his own inabilities and the way they were treating him. He sat down on the coffee table and said, 'I'll practice on my own. I can't depend on any of you guys to help me fly now, or later.'

   While it was true, it did hurt to hear it. Cas nodded and looked to Sam. Dean shouldn't be pushed any more at the moment. Sam led Cas over to the other end of the cabin's open space and they moved the kitchen table and chairs out of the way further, giving themselves enough space to spar without knocking into any furniture or hurting Dean with an errant kick or punch.

   Dean felt bad for saying that and after they were a good distance away, he tried to fly again, aiming for 4 feet away this time. 8 times his body length minus tail. He mumbled to himself what Balth said, it sounded funny and he needed something a little more lighthearted then the lesson on physics they gave him. 'Throw yourself at the ground and miss. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.'

   Cas hid a grin in his hand and Sam's mirthful eyes showed that he caught that too. Glad that Dean was trying again but keeping themselves from staring him down. They might have been making him nervous or worried about failing them. As Sam instructed Cas on how to stand and hold his hands and arms at the ready, they kept stealing glances at Dean who was standing in the center of the short coffee table, flapping his wings in different ways to see what produces lift and which ones would get him going forward. Cas was about to call out to Dean about the different ways bat's flap their wings but one of Sam's punches got him square in the side. He wheezed a little and Sam shrugged. A look was given to the shorter man, that said, 'The bad guys aren't going to hold back.'

   Cas nodded and held up his fists again and Sam slowed down his punches so Cas could see how they were thrown and how to block them. They both startled to a pause when they heard frantic scratching at the table, Dean was straining his wings like mad, pushing the air down forcefully with his toes just barely off of the table. Dean's long neck and head were also bobbing, as if that would push more air down for him to go up. Like legs pumping when on a swingset. He landed with a soft grunt and panted with his wings drooped to his sides. He looked over to the giants in the other room, a split second before, Sam swung at Cas again who deflected it without thinking.

   “Very good, Cas, now I'm going to hit with both fists, this is what's called a 'one two punch'.” He showed him a few times and variations on it until Cas nodded for them to continue on with a new style. Sam wanted to show him how to mix up fighting techniques so their opponents don't know what to expect. A bit of boxing, Keysi fighting method, SEAL, street, with light wrestling for beginners, and later would be a kind of freestyle that Dean had used when they were younger, a mix of break dancing and kick boxing. Cas seemed to be limber enough for those moves.

   Dean realized he was grinning at his brother teaching his lover. Sam was always good at that kinda thing. Working with people and tailor making his lessons for the benefit of his student. He didn't get the chance often, but Dean was proud that Sam really was doing a good job at it. Listening to his big brother all those times he gave him pointers. Young Sam had a hero worship complex mixed seamlessly into his sibling rivalry. Trying to prove to Dean and his dad that he was a good fighter that can do it by himself, but when he was around Dean, he depended on him to have his back and to save his ass if he needed it.

   Dean knew his Sammy inside and out and would tease him but never torment. Not really. They had their prank wars but that was to ease some of the tension from difficult hunts. Get their frustrations out in humorous and harmless ways. They see enough blood on the job from things that want to kill them – or eat them – that it didn't make any sense to pull pranks where one or the other would get hurt. As partners they needed each other in top physical shape so they just aimed to bruise some pride. For Sam, Dean gave him a sense of normalcy, brothers and siblings in other run-of-the-mill families would have these petty squabbles and their little family was no different in that respect.

   Dean got his breath back and saw the others started panting. They'd been at it for about half an hour now. Cas was clearly not used to physical fighting, his fine body came from regular treadmill and yoga exercise where the hunters came from running for their lives and throwing punches at monsters with bodies like brick walls. Come to think of it, Cas's background in yoga might help him escape some of those knots that the bad guys love to tie them up with. Some kind of kinky sex bondage for that Amazonian Siren they encountered a few years back. Bobby saved their asses from that one, but not before they'd been r-ratedly beaten, bloodied, and sexily bondaged. Dean was loath to admit that the ladies undergarments she put him in were far from displeasing and demeaning. It wasn't the first time he wore pink satin panties. That Rhonda Hurley was a _peach_.

   Dean caught up with his thoughts and wiped off his drool as he looked over to Sam and Cas. Cas was a little distracted and Sam got him twice with a punch/kick combo. Dean rumbled a growl at his brother but understood this was necessary. He still felt a pang of protectiveness hit him when he saw Cas clutch his side and try and catch his breath. If Dean flew right now it would be towards his brother to give him something else to focus on and give his mate a chance to recuperate for a hot minute. He only paused to think about the fact he kept referring to Cas as 'mate' as if they were animals before shrugging. Probably just a dragon thing. At least he didn't look at Cas and think, 'supper' or currently more like, 'fearsome giant from a fairytale'. Cas was just Cas. Dependable, lovable, and determined. And dead tired.

   Dean focused on his breathing and wing movements as he flexed them in and out again, staring at the edge of the table and remembering what Sam had said about his dragon mother needing a running start to get flying. He just wanted to see if he could take off on a dime before. No such luck. He kicked off of a heavy book and ran full tilt towards the edge of the table, wings snapping out from the start and flapping in waves, pushing the air down and sliding his wings up high and forwards to push down and back again. He mimicked the wave pattern that he saw from the crows outside. Like his hands used to do while hanging out of the Impala when he and Sammy were kids. If he angled his wing hand up while going forward he would go up with it when he was pushed forward with momentum. That only lasted until he reached the end of the table then it was a mad flurry of wings to keep him going forward and upwards. He managed to fly at a slightly downward angle and made it to 5 feet. A full foot farther then he hoped!

   That pleased feeling only lasted for the split second before he landed on his feet, then side, as he tumbled on the hard unforgiving wooden floor. He missed landing on the carpet since he flew farther then it, and _holy hell_ did that hurt! 'Son of a Bitch!' he cry-yelped as he scrambled to get off of his wings as he tumbled and skid along the rough wood floor. He had just landed in the second to worst way possible. No broken bones, but his wings were aching in several places from his clawed feet nearly skewering them. He stumbled to his feet and collapsed onto his belly, breathing hard through the pain. It felt like he was in a car accident hitting a brick wall going 60 mph. From the distance, neither Sam nor Cas saw how injured he felt, and at that moment, Sam had banged a few times loudly from his quick steps so Dean's landing wasn't heard, nor the painful cry a second later.

   Cas glanced over and saw that Dean was on the ground but relatively ok, he learned his lesson about being distracted though and caught Sam's leg that was going in for another kick to his bruising shin.

   Dean looked over and pouted a little bit, they didn't see that sweet ass flight of the phoenix he just did? Well, at least they also missed his embarrassingly bad landing. He went back to the coffee table and sat on the lower shelf, keeping himself out of the way if the sparring giants moved any closer from across the room. The distance was immense to him but he knew they could cover that ground in mere seconds. He knew how caught up Sam could get sometimes. Cas was making some good progress already but Sam would just up the ante.

   Dean frowned at that. You need to give equal amounts of encouragement as well as corrections when you're training someone. Otherwise they could feel like they aren't making any progress at all.

   Dean cleared his throat and as loud as he could, started giving Cas pointers about all of Sam's weak spots. Sam was getting peeved at Dean skipping ahead of the lessons he was giving. Cas was a quick learner but it would take time to get to that level of fighting. Right now Cas needed to work on his punches. It needed to be repeated over and over so often that it turns into instinct to strike in one way or another to counter the blows that the opponent is making. It needed to be seamless and flow like water.

   'Kick his nuts! That aughta bring the giant down!'

   “I'm not sure – ungh!- that is wise, Dean.” Cas got out between blows and deflections.

   'Want me to bite his legs off?' Dean said, trying to muster up some Monty Python references from the incorrigible black knight. 'I can reach those no problem! Don't even need to know how to fly. I bet I could take him down with sharp wit alone!'

   “Watch it shorty, you're on my shit list.” Sam pointed a warning finger at him before forming a fist again.

   'Yeah? Well you're on my _shin_ list!' he quipped and snapped his teeth at his gigantic little brother.

   Cas was no help at all because he was suddenly laughing his ass off, holding his sides that were now getting sore. Muscles that weren't used to so much movement were starting to ache a little, and Sam kept on pushing just a little bit harder, knowing that this is how you get fit in a hurry.

   Sam wanted to get Cas into the basic defenses and offense moves first and then worry about technique and opponent's weaknesses. At least Dean is helping with the other thing he was about to teach Cas, how to focus on the fight while being distracted.

   'When Sam spins around you all you gotta do is kick the back of his knee caps, he's bigger then you so his center of balance is off from yours, it'll be easier for you to knock him down.'

   “Quiet over there Mushu, the big kids are playing.” Sam egged him on, finding it hilarious and trying hard to hide it.

   'Mushu was a bad-ass! Dishonor! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!' Dean's little hands aiming up at him and his leather boots next to his table.

   Cas had to actually stagger off and sit while his body was wracked with painful laughter, actual tears leaking out of his eyes. “Sam.. a minute? Please?” he practically begged for a break.

   Sam smirked and nodded, going to the cooler for a couple of beers. That got Dean's attention and he started the trek out to the table a few football fields away, now that the titans were no longer clashing. Cas noticed the movement and elbowed Sam gently to get his attention then bobbed his beer bottle in Dean's direction. Sam had a little grin on his face and waited for the inevitable.

   'Lift me up BFG. I could use a beer.'

   “If you manage to make it up here on your own you will earn that beer. Cas earned his.” Sam pointed out and took a swig of his own bottle.

   'Bitch.'

   “Jerk.” Sam said around the mouth of the bottle and angled away from Dean. He had to give it to his brother, his ingenuity would thrive if he was given a challenge. Cas kept on fidgeting with his bottle, tearing off the label and trying to smooth it back on, just itching to reach down and help Dean up to the table top. One look from Sam stilled his hands and he had to keep his eyes level with the taller Winchester or break.

   “So Cas, you have a good form but it needs a little work when you finish the punch, you leave your side open for attack -” Sam carried on and Dean was thoroughly pissed at being so easily ignored. He didn't take this as bad or insulting though. He wanted to prove to them that he could do this. He could get his own beer. He tried for the cooler first but that was a bust before it even started. He'd have to get on the lid to reach it and if he's standing on it he couldn't open it up to get a beer. Crap. And it was a better height for him too. Dammit. The table might as well be a mountaintop for how tall it was. Ok, exaggeration. It's just really tall. Not insurmountable.

   Not a real challenge either. He'll have to be fighting off bad guys while climbing or flying. Right now the tricky bit's just getting up there. 

   Baby steps. There were two empty chairs and not a single one matched another at the table. One used to be a rocking chair with the bowed bottoms pulled off. It had plenty of rungs on it and spaced a manageable distance apart. He surveyed the other one, taller, the legs were spun on a lathe and might be easier to climb then the rope exercises that his dad John Winchester used to put them through. Lots of hand holds on that chair. But, on each chair he'd have to scale over the seat which overhung each leg. He'd have to figure out a way to climb upside down along the underside of the seat to get to the side and then top. And even then, he'd have to do the same to the table. The other two chairs were pushed in so he couldn't just jump up and catch the table's edge and pull himself up. He'd have to scale up the backs of them or shimmy up the edge of the back of the seat and that table leg over there. It was about 3 inches gap between them... but his wings would get in the way. He could just climb up Sam or Cas's legs and bodies, because it's much _much_ easier to climb with cloths that he could dig his claws into. Hell he scaled Cas while he was standing! This would be a piece of cake, but he knew that would be like cheating and Sam might be a bitch about the rule breaking. Sam didn't say he had to fly per say, but it was definitely implied hard enough.

   Ok, he's got to fly, at least for part of this thing to satisfy the slave driver. The counter was too far... the boxes of supplies might work... but they're also kinda far away. There's the broom closet with more rifles stashed in there then cleaning supplies... crap, also far away. Sheesh! The table didn't seem like it was hovering in the middle of the damned room before, why is it now? Did Sam move it on purpose just to fuck with him?

   Sam was still talking about what Cas could do to practice on his own and Cas was taking mental notes. Dean could tell that Castiel's scientific side was being kindled because the way Sam was talking to him was like a scientific method kinda way. If one result doesn't happen, why and what should be changed to get a different result. At least it appeared to him that way from their tone of voices and the scents coming from them, it was kinda hard to tell from ground level anything going on above 3 feet visual wise. All he could see was the underside of the table and their bodies from chest down since both were leaning attentively forward in their seats.

   Sammy sounded pretty intelligent talking about this kinda stuff. Changing his lesson plan to benefit the student. Still a bitch though for denying him beer. The sounds coming from above him told him that they stopped drinking the beers and were probably holding off for him to come join them. That felt kinda nice and annoying at the same time. Swinging between, 'I know he can make it.' and, 'we have to wait for the baby to catch up. Wonder how long until the beer goes flat?'

   Dean let both thoughts drive him into hurrying his ass. He will show them what he's made of. He decided to go with the counter top. He could climb up the half cracked opened drawers, and once at the top, flap his ass on over to the table. He can glide pretty well, so it shouldn't be that hard to simply fly parallel. Or maybe he could climb higher and glide down. Of course he couldn't always depend on something very tall to do that in mid fight, might as well go for it. Counter it is.

   A part of him was finding it amusing as hell that his world now consisted of giants and monolithic structures befitting a psychedelic fun house. Nothing really looked real from down here. When he's up higher, it starts to look more normal. He started to think about his situation and problem like that. He can't be scared of these heights because he's simply going to be at a level that he had been in before he got turned into a tiny pet sized monster. He belongs up there, not down here with dirt and debris. Does no one clean anymore? Gonna have to take another bath after this. That might be fun to do with Cas. Ok, his reward for leaving the ground behind is a hot bubble bath with the cutest guy around.

   Dean grinned to himself and set for the counter top. Sam was heard leaning over in his chair to subtly check up on where his older brother was going off to. Once he figured it out, he then quietly moved the few items on the table to the side so Dean would have plenty of landing space should he need it. He nodded in Dean's direction and Cas grinned back before going back to their discussion. It really was fascinating how many different fighting styles there were. Sam paused his lecture, got up, moving his chair a little, before disappearing into the room he slept in. He noted with a casual glance where Dean was as he came back to the table with a long knife, flipping it around and teaching Cas how to hold one for the different moves as well. He made sure that when he moved his chair, it was no longer in Dean's way, making it even easier for him. Cas noticed almost belatedly and scooted his chair off to the side as well to 'inspect' the knife closer.

   Dean was huffing and puffing once he got to the top of the half cocked open drawers and rested for a hot minute on the flat surface. The others looked like they were still oblivious to his ascent and he was pleased with that. He's still got his mad stalking skills. He laid there until his heart-rate slowed back to normal and got himself used to the sights from this high up. He thought to himself, _this isn't that high. This is only waist high and all I gotta do is get over there. It's not even that far. Then I can finally get that damned drink. Man, I’m thirsty. Sammy better not hold back on it either. I earned that keg's worth of beer. And I'm gonna get it. Hell, I'm gonna swim in it and end with some victory laps!_

   Dean got to his feet again and backed up a little on the counter's surface, he failed to notice that Sam and Cas were tensing up at the table, trying to keep up their conversation and simultaneously be aware of Dean's every move without making it obvious that they're doing it. Dean took some deep breaths and let them out coolly. Slowly. Wings twitched a little as they unfurled and hung open at his sides. They were pretty big in ratio to his body so this is gonna be easier then easy. He picked a landing zone on the table and focused on it with laser sights. Eyes on the prize.

   He kicked off of the table and started flapping his wings _HARD_. His feet loosing purchase on the counter because he was actually getting lift as he ran. He had his game face on but it was slipping into nervous happiness because it looked like he was actually going to do it! The edge of the counter came up fast and he hurled himself off of it, never loosing sight of the spot on the plateau ahead of him. Cas moved back to give him room and it was a good thing too because apparently his wingspan was wide enough he would have smacked him in the head. Two more feet to go and his wings were straining with the effort, the horizon raising ahead of him but he pushed himself upwards at the last second and just barely made it halfway onto the table top. He scrabbled with his clawed hands and then feet to keep himself from slipping off the edge of the table. Wings flapping frantically and so fast that neither human wanted to interrupt the actions that might cause a snap in one of the brittle bones.

   Dean leaped upwards once he got his hind claws dug into the table's edge and landed on his chest firmly on the table. Wings lifting and raising as if they didn't know that he was done flying. Finally, the adrenaline was wearing off and Dean had a tired grin on his face as he looked up into the hazel eyes of his brother and then tilted his head to see the ocean blue of his mate.

   'Take that gravity.' he huff-chirped before collapsing entirely onto the table's surface. Chest heaving and wings totally spent. He felt a few fingers trail along his wings and let them fold the webbed appendages closer to his body.

   “I am so proud of you, Dean.” he heard that gravel rough voice say, nothing but honesty coming from the man. Sam didn't have to say anything at all, just the beaming look in his face was enough to make Dean feel like blushing. He rolled his eyes and rested his head on the equally hard won, hard wood, table.

   'Beer. Now.' he mumbled but actually drifted off to sleep before Sam came back with his trophy mug of liquor. All of the activity and exertion and swell of feelings and emotions effectively knocked the energy right out of the dragon.

   Cas would sit with him at the table for as long as it took for Dean to wake up. No way in hell would he take this victory away from him by easily lifting him up and away from the table. Even if it was to move him into a more comfortable place, like the couch or bed. So Castiel settled in, and rested his hand next to the slumbering dragon to keep him warm. After 10 minutes he scooted his chair back and rested his head on his folded arm and decided to doze as well. His hand cupped Dean fully, when Dean leaned over and into it, squirming while asleep for the maximum amount of warmth. Then the hand was brought closer to Cas's face as Cas fell deep asleep as well.

   Castiel found himself in a large lavishly decorated bedroom with soothing music coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A gorgeous setting sun that was just this side of twilight beyond bay windows, and candles lighting up the place in a soft sensual glow. The bed covers were ruffled silk and just slightly messy to show off how comfortable they looked, and above all, _inviting._ Cas turned his head and saw a tall man standing there with his back turned, showing off what God and a life of hunting had given him. A muscular Adonis to Cas's eyes as they trailed up and down the man of his desire.

   The man's freckled grin greeted him as he turned around and he heard him say in the most seductive and lascivious way possible, “Hello, Cas.” and his hands rested on the fine hips as his smile lit up the room. He was so damned happy to see him there, seemingly waiting ages but was probably no time at all, time didn't exist without Cas there with him. “Show me what you got dream weaver.”

   “Dean.” Cas finally got out around the heavy breaths he was making, letting Dean pull him towards the bed. He was aware that he was naked as well, and was just fine with that realization. In fact, more then fine since he wasn't sure he'd have the finger dexterity needed to unbutton anything with Dean looking all kinds of desirable and needy. He grinned shyly and mumbled, “I think you got a good handle on it already.”

   “I will in a minute.” Dean smirked at his own bad joke. His robust pride in making Cas look like this with just the right setting and words. Man, he couldn't wait to do this in real life. For now, this was good. He knew that this wasn't gonna be the last time they would be together, and that promise had him wanting that day even more.

   They forewent the numerous overly romanticized ways of slipping under bed covers, when Dean enthusiastically tackled Cas right into it, making it bounce in a decidedly less then graceful way. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long getting out, work is taking up time, blah blah blah, but it really is true! That and the bitterly cold weather we've been having, It's hard to type when you can't feel your flanges. Now that the weather here is above -14 degrees out, I can actually use my little laptop to type with in the taxi between runs.  
> Here's hoping the new plot line I *finally* figured out will get the creative juices going again!  
> Oh yeah, did I mention? I actually have a plot line now to follow or completely ignore, depending on the circumstances and how much sleep I got the night before.  
> Thanks for reading/following/commenting/bookmarking/kudos(-ing?) and being generally awesome people! Bless you all my favorite lovelies :)


	27. I'm not here to perch on your shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of training, the group has a surprise guest and the cabin might burn down around them. Dean sees that light at the end of a tunnel wink out, and blackness greets him like an old friend. Must be Tuesday.

Chapter Twenty Seven:

I'm not here to perch on your shoulder

 

 

 

   “And that's how to make her land.” Bobby concluded the first training session for their small drone that was a little larger then a toy helicopter, but costs far more. Balthazar's fingers practically tingled in anticipation for his turn. “Careful Grabby McSticky Fingers, this is not a toy.”

   Balth nodded side to side exasperatingly at the parental like scolding, and received the impressive looking controller into his eager fingers, and after familiarizing himself with the controls now that it's finally in his possession, easily made the drone lift off and land 10 feet away for practice. Bobby grinned a little at how methodical Balthazar was taking the lessons and practices, he assumed that his free spirit would be reckless, but the contrary was true. Balth soon made the drone lift off again, go in a big loop and then land again, looking over to Bobby for reprimands or pointers. He got a respectful head nod to continue and he didn't even bother hiding his grin as he made the drone fly farther and farther with trickier moves. Always careful under Bobby's watchful eye, not wanting to make the old hunter nervous or worried about his expensive equipment in the hands of an inexperienced student. He wanted to prove that he is perfectly capable of handling it with care. After a few minutes, they started to chat again while the drone was now taping their conversation with a flick of a switch on the controls.

   In addition to getting used to it's movements in the slight air currents, they were also trying to suss out how far the microphone's range was when they are outside, battling the sounds of nature that were drowning out their voices.

   “So, Bobby, any new thoughts as to how we are going to free the mother?”

   Bobby frowned and said, “If the schematics your friend Meg had sent back are accurate, it will not be easy.”

   “She's getting very impatient.” Balth noted, turning off the video feed and then turned the audio's sensitivity on a little more as he practiced. “She said that she heard talk about Azazel showing up at the base within a week for a trade of some sort. He told them how to turn someone into a dragon and now he wants a new one of his own. That it was fair for the valuable information he had sent a little while ago. No doubt the victim of his madness is Meg's brother. If she tells Azazel where Dean is, or gives him back the tracker, he will eventually find Dean, and if she doesn't, he still wins by getting her brother turned into a baby dragon, one that will probably be easier to train into submission since it wouldn't know freedom.”

   “What is her brother's name anyway? Never did get it.” Bobby asked as his eyes were still trained on the aerial display over their heads.

   “Oh! Sorry, I think his family is Scottish, Crowley something. I think he's older then her by a decade at least, I honestly don't have too much information about him. She was adopted into his family so they don't really look or act alike. But they are still family, and love each other. No doubt Crowley fought his hardest against Azazel's hunters, but he's just one man. He's not much of a _physical_ fighter as he is a negotiator. It's really too bad that Azazel doesn't 'do' negotiations. I heard that Crowley was the best one in Crossroads, Indiana. 'King of the Crossroads', he liked to boast.” Balthazar shook his head a little at the memory of Crowley buying a round of drinks every time he made a killer deal for his unique clientele. “Boarder line illegal, but the 'King' didn't care much about the prodigious standings -or lack of- his clients had, only if they were worth the effort.” he added with a cock of his head as the drone swooped between two tree branches. Crowley's deals varied so greatly, it wasn't worth trying to explain to Bobby when his hands were full and busy.

   “And you think this Crowley is worth the effort it's gonna take to save him?”

   Balthazar nodded. He didn't want to see anyone else fall victim to that bastard. “He wouldn't hesitate to help his sister, and I may not be her biggest fan, but she's still a decent person. Crowley has grown on me too a little.” He made the drone do another swoop by the two men and said something that he was thinking about earlier, “Azazel probably still thinks that the Michael still has Dean. They never told him otherwise.”

   “Azazel doesn't know what happened to Dean?”

   Balth shook his head a little with his eyes still trained on the flying drone. “Doesn't seem like it.”

   They watched the drone flying around for a little longer before the battery light started to blink on the controller, signaling the end of the flying lesson for today.

   “What do you think the bastard will do when he finds out that Michael lost him?”

   “I guess we need to consider the possibilities, Azazel might know that, and is trying a different tactic. I'm wondering if he wants the other dragon kid, the one the military turned, Gordon something.”

   “Walker.” Bobby grunted distastefully. “He was a hunter and a damned good one, but crazy as hell. An itchy trigger fingered asshole when anything not-human was in his sights. Azazel would have fun torturing him into submission.” Bobby grimaced and said, “Dunno how I feel about that, or how the hell they talked him into becoming a monster in the first place.” Bobby took off his ball cap to run a hand through his thinning hair and put it back on firmly. “Walker wasn't exactly evil but he's not a good guy. His blood lust was borderline monster already.”

   A quiet moment passed and Balth's face paled. Bobby noticed it as he was taking the controller back, “What is it?”

   “This is just a thought but, what if Azazel wants Walker because he's planning on hunting Dean down himself? Using Walker as an attack dog.”

   “If he can get Dragon-Walker on his side then Dean doesn't stand a chance the way he is now. Then Azazel would have two dragons at his disposal. No doubt that Dean would be tortured into service again. His mind isn't as strong since he's flipping personalities left and right. He's already been compromised more then once. Poor kid. Can't get a break, not even in his own melon.”

   “If Azazel gets Dean and Walker, he could then go after the military base and get the mother next. There's literally nothing to stop him then. A bloody domino effect.” Balthazar frowned, “He kidnapped Meg's bro, Meg helps him get Gordon in a kind of prisoner exchange, and then Dean's hunted down and taken out and then his mother. And from there, Azazel could breed himself a damn army of dragons. Stepping up from a simple monster zoo, he could take over _everything_ with that kind of unstoppable firepower.”

   They all knew that the only reason the military was able to capture the mother dragon was because she was too emotionally exhausted after loosing yet another one of her offspring, her first son. She didn't have the fight in her to hold back the squad that was sent in to capture her. Dean was already in a cage when the military showed up at Azazel's, and Gordon volunteered. Balth and Castiel were told about how Dean was caught and taken away from them on that small stretch of road. They all knew that if the big freckled dragon had been looking out for just himself, he would not have been caught by Azazel's hunters on the payroll. He could have just set fire to every one and every thing there to get away. His humanity and compassion saved his soul but doomed his body to torment.

   They all knew by now that when a dragon sets their mind to something, there was no stopping them. The mother hasn't escaped yet, but that might be due to the fact that she had not been able to do much in her near comatose state. The military keeps her in a freezing cold room and dose her with the dragon herb on a regular basis. Probably force feeding her with a tube running down to her stomach so they wouldn't even have to wake her up for her to eat the large meals. She would need help getting free. There's no getting around that fact. They could not leave her in their hands to rot away in some underground base. Dean basically got himself free of the warehouse and the military base by simply burning the buildings down around himself. If he were out for blood, he could easily have it.

   If Dean and Gordon and the mother were all trained to follow the psychopaths bloodthirsty orders, they could be turned into the most lethal things on earth. It wouldn't take much coercion with that kind of power following his command to make Azazel into an unbeatable tyrant.

   Both men shuddered at the thought. Bobby spoke up first, “Ok, we will label that as worst case scenario.”

   Balth laughed nervously, “What in God's green earth is the _best_ case?”

   “Are you talking wishful thinking best case? The military grows a conscience and lets Dean's mother go free, kills Gordon before he can be turned loose, Meg gets her brother back after Azazel drops dead from my bullets. Dean and his momma get turned back into humans. I wouldn't even bother turning Gordon back, he was a monster before he grew horns.”

   Balthazar remarked, “Ok, now the most _feasible_ best case scenario?”

   “We storm the castle with our dragon and Meg helps us get Momma out and then we go after Azazel with dragon's blazing. All while somehow evading Gordon and everyone else out to kill us on principle alone.”

   They took a few steps towards their bags, half hidden in a nearby shrub, and Balth chuckled humorlessly, “Sometimes I have to stop and think about the fact that we are talking about dragons like this is a normal thing people have to deal with. Mythical fire breathing dragons. It's still weird as hell. It will never cease to be supernatural instead of natural. I don't care that it's real, it shouldn't be. You get that right? This is all barmy.”

   Bobby just grunted in relative agreement. He too had to stop and think about how different his and other hunter's lives were. Things he deals with are considered supernatural just because most people don't know that it really is natural, it's just hidden really well under a veil of mass ignorance. And he aims to keep it that way. Normal folk can't even deal with regular stuff. Taxes, doctor visits, in-laws, and deciding where they want to go out to eat for their b-days. Tell them that all the while, there's monsters ready to dine on _them_ and see how fast society crumbles. To them, monsters are just CGI's in movies.

   Balth picked up a foot long stick and waved it around in the air with his free hand in the direction of the cabin. “Magic wand would come in handy right about now.”

   “This ain't no fairy tale. We have to rely on ourselves and not some mystical cure-all.” Bobby stated and put the drone back into its case.

   Balthazar just started to laugh openly, “You say that as if we aren't using witch's spells already.”

   Bobby frowned. He got him on that one... “There's a difference.” he mumbled more or less to himself, and pulled out several  handguns from the munitions bag. Balth held up his hands good naturedly as if the grumpy old man was such a sore looser that he'd open fire on anyone that got the verbal upper hand. Bobby sighed exasperatedly and deftly flipped one of the handguns around for the grip to aim at Balthazar's chest. “Idjit.”

   Balth accepted it with a wry smirk and addressed the codger right back, “Prat.”

   It had been a long walk out there without the car, but they couldn't risk anyone finding the cabin because they were being too noisy while target practicing in the quiet woods. He showed the Brit how to attach the thigh holster to his leg and belt and how to draw it out quickly while cocking the hammer back. He handed one over to Balthazar and motioned to a fallen log for them to use as target practice. They started in on it, while being conscious of how many shells were left in the bag. They'll have to be conserving much needed bullets for the battle to come.

   A distant engine was heard over the bangs of the handguns and Bobby held up his hand for Balth to stop firing. They both turned their heads in the direction of the incoming vehicle and cursed simultaneously.

   They ran back to the path they took out here from the small clearing as fast as Bobby's limping could take them, heading to the cabin, the handguns pulled from their holsters at their sides as a strange truck jumped along the potholed road about half a mile from them. Balth was torn between calling the others and aiming his handgun at the truck that was on the other side of them, with the cabin soon to be in-between. Bobby had to holster his weapon just because they didn't know who it was, friend or foe. He had to focus on not aggravating his spinal injury too bad to make him paralyzed before the showdown even started. This short run may end up killing him, but he had to risk it. His boys were in that cabin and need his protection. When it was obvious that the truck had turned from the path to the nearby lake and going down the right lane towards the cabin, he cursed again and ran faster. The truck slowed a little just before entering the clearing the cabin was in, and they could just barely see the figure behind the wheel as it made some kind of hand gesture at them, and then kept on driving. Bobby didn't recognize the figure, truck or gesture at all and sped along after it, panting so heavily he doubted he'd see straight when he got there a minute later. They _had_ to get to the cabin before that intruder got there.

 

   Sam was just getting his coat on to leave for the supply run when he heard a silence in the woods. Bobby and Balth had been practice shooting for half an hour and there was no reason to stop so soon. Unless something was wrong. He looked over to the kitchen table where Castiel and his brother were still fast asleep in each others arms. The little dragon wrapping a wing over the top of Cas's head and Cas's hand around Dean's little body. They never looked so close and comfortable. One part of Sam ordered him to wake them up to help him out in defending the cabin against whatever it was that made Bobby and Balth stop their training so abruptly. But the louder part said that neither Cas nor Dean were ready for a fight yet. Dean was just too small and Cas had only one sparring lesson, not even moved onto weapons yet.

   Sam firmed his jaw and swept across the room to gather up his trusty handgun and slid on over to the front door, frowning that Cas and Dean were well within sight of whoever would be on the other side. He'd have to go outside for this fight. If he woke them up, Dean and Cas would probably want to fight and that would get them both killed. No way in hell would Dean be able to defend himself against even one human.

   He put his back against the wall next to the door and opened it up a crack, seeing and now hearing, a truck entering the clearing. His hands gripped the handle of the door in his left, and the other had his gun solid and familiar in his grip, and he took a breath before barging through the door, gun aimed up and the head of the driver in its sights. He kicked the door shut just before firing off a warning shot to the front of the truck, making it swerve a little and finally stop at an angle to the cabin.

   “Get out of the truck! _Now!_ ” Sam demanded and held up his gun fearlessly.

   The hands of the driver shot up and he saw what was probably the person nodding, it was hard to tell with the deep shadows and reflections on the windshield. The trucks door creaked open slowly and Sam heard movement from behind him, something running up fast from the other side of the cabin. Shit! An ambush!

   Sam spun around on the porch and fired off another warning shot at the feet of the two people that were just barely seen running full tilt at Sam.

   “Damned Idjit!” he heard exclaimed from the woods and his gun dropped its sights to the forest floor again.

   “Bobby?” he called and then jolted his wrath back to the truck's driver. His gun went laser straight to the head of the man standing next to the truck and his eyes bulged out.

   “Fine way of saying 'howdy do', don'cha think?” a familiar voice called out as his hands fell to his sides. “Specially to the rightful owner of this here establishment?”

   “ _Rufus?!_ ” Bobby exclaimed next and staggered to a crouch. “Damned fool ever hear of a cell phone?!” he shouted over angrily once he got a moment's breath.

   “What? And miss seeing how you guys flail and flounder from one unarmed civilian?” Rufus chided. His bright white teeth shown against his dark chocolate skin, the mischievous glint in his eye caught the sunlight as he grinned goodhearted at them, even though Balth still had his gun up and twitching. “Put that down, Son, before you poke your fool eye out.”

   Balth lowered it cautiously as he saw the others obviously recognized the newcomer. He holstered it and strode out a little towards the tall rugged man with the wide grin. “Rufus Turner?” he asked and got a head nod in return. His hand came up once he was close enough and Balthazar grinned back at him, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” and shook his hand without any further preamble.

   “Least one of you still has manners.” Rufus smirked at the others while he let go of Balth's hands. “Now what have you done to my chateau? He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked up at Sam and then over to where Bobby was still recovering from that long run.

   Sam shrugged and then remembered. “Oh! The sigils! We weren't sure what all would be after us.” he pointed out the half hidden marks on the trees and then towards the traps laid out all around. “Or what animals would be after Dean.”

   Rufus frowned and looked up and around. “Speaking of, where is your idiot brother?”

   Sam could hear some muffled curses from behind the door and some footsteps from Cas, presumably getting a coat and shoes on. He still sounded half asleep, and Dean sounded livid at being called an idiot.

   “He's inside.” Sam stated and thumbed at the door.

   “Don't tell me you crammed a 30 foot tall dragon into my little cabin, Son.” Rufus's frown deepened and he glanced towards the curtained windows.

   “Oh he fits.” Sam smirked and opened up the door to reveal Castiel holding Dean in his cupped hand with the other still had his hand raised and reaching for the door knob.

   Sam enjoyed seeing the look of Rufus's face at the sight of Dean. Due to security risks, they couldn't tell anyone through electronic means what they did with Dean. Even Meg still thinks he's a huge dragon, so in case she's caught she couldn’t reveal his new weakness to anyone.

   “Well I'll be a prima ballerina!” Rufus's mirth was all in his voice as he strolled up the steps to take a closer look at Dean.

   Suddenly all the anger of being called stupid earlier fled Dean's mind as this new giant approached him. His eyes went wide and he crouched low in Cas's palm, seeking cover the moment the new hand came into view. Rufus paused in his reach when he noticed how tense everyone got in an instant. He didn't doubt that he'd loose that hand if he proceeded any further at the moment so he let it drop casually to his side and gave Dean a head nod in greeting instead.

   It was obvious that the tiny dragon was sentient and scared shit-less. And Rufus wouldn't blame him. Thinking about how huge he must look to someone so little. He was a seasoned hunter after all, and even though he knew Dean trusted him, that thought alone must be wreaking havoc on his monster nerves. To have a hunter that Dean hadn't seen in years reach out to him suddenly, must seem like a hostile move in his mind, and Dean had next to no way of defending himself. The little body was clearly shaking in that guy's hand. Simply _terrified._

   Rufus let the incident slide. All he wanted was to touch the little body, to satisfy his curiosity that what he's looking at is indeed real but by everyone's reaction, the situation was more real then he could imagine. He flexed his fingers at his side, the new realizations that a simply handshake from someone so big compared to something so small could break bones. It was a sobering thought.

   “Well, no time like the present.” Rufus stated and went back to the truck for his bags. Balthazar jumped at the chance to help him out and got an appraising look from the hunter. “Careful with that, you could turn pink.”

   Balth stilled his hands instantly and looked between the bag and the hunter. His hands slowly stretched out to hand off the bag to someone else. Bobby just laughed at him and accepted the bag. Messing with civilians was a kinda fun pastime of his and his old partner.

   After another couple trips from the truck to the cabin, emptying it of take out food, canned food, munitions, weapons and other unmarked boxes, everything was squared away and the 5 humans and 1 dragon were seated in the living room, with a couple of kitchen chairs pulled in so no one had to sit on the armrests or floor. Cas's hands held onto Dean the whole time and no one mentioned why. Dean barely said a greeting to Rufus before he shut his mouth and ducked down out of pure instinct to seek shelter. Cas became a little over protective of him after that, and went so far as to bring up his other hand and put both hands in front of Dean to block him from everyone and everything else, using himself like a human shield. Dean knew he should gripe at that but couldn't get the words out. Thankfully, no one mentioned _that_ either.

   They chatted about what Rufus was up to and what they had been through since their last communication. Rufus had his hands full trying to recruit hunters to team-Dean. That was not easy and he'd only gotten a handful of hunters on his side. He had to use hypothetical's to find out where they would stand on the rescue missions. Saying that if one of them was turned into a monster and there was a way to turn them back, if they'd go for it or not. And then if so, how far they were willing to go to save one of their own. Most were willing to help, but not to the extent that they were needed. Rufus had to make sure that when they got their team together, that every one of them would be dedicated enough to help fight against great odds. The ones that were, had a beef with the military, Michael or Azazel and in a few cases, more then one of their formidable opponents. Rufus hit paydirt when he cast his net into a popular hunters bar and Bobby, Sam and Dean all were happy to hear that their old friends Ellen, Jo and Ash were on board till the end. Pastor Jim Murphy wanted to help, but he had to deal with some demons in the east. Caleb was also unable to help, sending his condolences to Dean.

   “Well,” Bobby sighed a little, he had hoped that there were more, but at least it was more then they had yesterday. “We don't need an army to take one down.” that got some raised eyebrows. “This is about being sneaky, not taking them all on at once. A burglar doesn’t attack in the middle of the day when the homeowners are ready and packing.”

   Rufus aimed his reheated french fry at Bobby and said, “That is correct. Maybe you aren't as senile as I thought you were.”

   “Go to hell, Rufus.” Bobby scoffed and threw a burger wrapper at him. “But thanks for the take-out.”

   “Oh! That reminds me!” Balthazar sprung to his feet and he disappeared into the bedroom he slept in, coming back out with a grin and a blue box and handing it over. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

   Rufus actually beamed and accepted the blue label liquor and said, “You're my favorite. All the rest of y'all can get out.” he chuckled and opened up the bottle, taking a long swig of it and sighing happily. Balthazar nodded at Cas but Cas just gave him a pointed look back, he wasn't about to put Dean down now for anything, so it was up to Balth to retrieve the cigars and hand them over as well in Castiel's place.

   “Are you propositioning me?” Rufus raised an eyebrow and gave Balth a once over.

   Balth actually blushed at that. Bobby just barely held back the chuckle as he informed, “He's straight, Balth,” and couldn't hold back any longer at the crestfallen look on the Brit's face and the confusion in Rufus's. He'd just been joking but now it seems as though he has an admirer.

   “Flattered, but I'm good.” Rufus informed and opened up the package of cigars to show that they were still appreciated and he wasn't going to hurt the guy's feelings by refusing anything from him. He did however share with the others and soon the room was getting a little smoky. The others rarely - if ever - smoked, but they shrugged and went with it. This was the calm before the storm and they might not get another chance to have a cigar and drink with friends. Ignoring that the lives of hunters were always like this... it's half of the reason most hunters were drunks. The other half is to cope with the simple fact of _being_ a hunter.

   Cas lowered his cigar to Dean who sized it up. His mouth just barely stretched wide enough and if it weren't for Cas holding it up, the couch would have been set on fire. He took a long pull from it and breathed it out, ignoring the looks he was getting from the others. It had a fine flavor to it and he chirped once for another puff of it before Cas resumed his turn.

   “Now I heard that you can make your own fire. That true hot wings?” Rufus asked with his cigar hanging out the side of his mouth.

   'If you had a candle or something, I think I can give it a go.' Dean chirped at him. Cas translated for him. Sam rummaged around one of the spell supply bags and found a normal candle amid the special ones and set it on the table. Rufus was leaning forward, hoping to see Dean in action but Sam just lit the candle with a lighter.

   He was about to call it cheating but Bobby spoke up first, “When Dean was at the army base they knocked all of his sparker teeth out. He can't produce the flame on his own but he is still able to make it a fireball.”

   “And he was flameproof enough to survive two buildings burning down around him, all from his fire acid like spray.” Cas added, setting Dean down onto the coffee table a foot away from the 2 inch tall candle.

   Balth snickered, “Ah yes, the _flaccid_ dragon.” which got a snort from Cas and the others.

   'The fuck you just call me?' Dean squawked indignantly. Cas held up his hand to Dean to keep him from somehow leaping off of the table to attack Balthazar who was laughing merrily and pointing at the dragon.

   Since it was obvious what Dean said by the expression and body language, he didn't wait for a translation. Balth explained for the others benefits, “Flaming acid – _flaccid_.” and his laughs got louder as he proclaimed, “Don't look at me, Cas called it first!”

   Dean's dawning look of pure horror was turned onto Cas and his wings twitched a little. Looking like he wanted to run away from the embarrassment. Castiel's heart sunk a little amid the laughter from everyone else. He knew it was just a joke but Dean must not see it like that. He saw himself as weak, inadequate, no longer respected. Sam and Cas were hit with the strong emotions and coughed as if it pained them. Before anyone could react, Dean ran towards the other end of the table and took flight, aiming for the bedroom. Sam stood up, shocked and wheezing, and Bobby reached out a hand but Dean avoided it in mid flight, flapping like crazy to get up and over the bent knees and hands. He landed a good 20 feet away in a little heap but took off on a run as Cas finally got to his feet and gave chase.

   All of the mirth and humor left the group as they saw Cas chase after Dean into the bedroom. Dean dove inside the darkness and Cas stood up straight when he got to the door to open it wider. He shot Balthazar a scathing look before cautiously entering the bedroom after his distraught mate.

   Balth stood to go over there as well but Bobby gripped his elbow to keep him still. “Leave him be, Son.” in a tone that insisted no argument. Balth looked like he was going to shrug him off and go anyway but the pained look he got from Sam stilled him. He fucked up. He slumped back into his seat and kept quiet.

 

   “Dean?” Cas's voice was soft in the darkness, the living room behind him quiet as well, but a new topic was brought up and greedily accepted by Sam and Bobby. Cas closed the door behind him and wordlessly lit up the lantern again. He knew that Dean wouldn't want to be seen just yet. The overhead light would be too harsh right now.

   His own past with dealing with humiliation told him to let Dean cope in his own time. Just being here for him will help. - he hoped. “Dean. I want to apologize. I did not mean that name at all. Balthazar and I were trying to come up with names - _titles_ -” he quickly corrected himself, “for your special flame spray. And that one, just, slipped out. Completely unintentional. No hidden or deep meaning behind it. _I swear_.” Cas had no idea where Dean disappeared off to in the bedroom, he could fit just about anywhere. Rather then seek him out, he went over to the bed carefully, watching where he stepped, and inspected the bed covers for any dragon shaped lumps before sitting down. “Regardless, I shouldn't have said it, I should have thought about what I was saying... it just came out and you and I know that you are anything but 'flaccid'.” he huffed twice, but the humor was floundering in the quiet room.

   Cas heard a snort from underneath the dresser. 'So now you're saying I'm like some stupid uncontrollable teenager?'

   “No!” Cas said, eyes snapping to the dark shadowed area under the dresser. “You are perfect, Dean. In _every_ way.”

   Another derisive snort and a shuffling of dust bunnies under the furniture. A moment passed. For every second, it was getting harder and harder for Dean to show himself. Further embarrassing himself in front of his lover. Cas could practically feel the self loathing like a blanket. “It's alright. I'm here for you for as long as you want me.” the bed springs squeaked a little as he adjusted his position, straightening up into a more comfortable angle. He added for clarifications sake, “I mean it, Dean. In every sense of the word. I'm yours, forever, or not, it all depends on if you want me around.” Cas sighed a little. His own fears of rejection rearing their ugly heads. He shoved that aside. Dean would feel it and then feel guilty. Forcing him to stay with Cas, even if he didn't want to.

   Dean couldn't smell much from under the dresser. It was actually kinda nice under here, secure. Safe. The world was just too big, and add to it 5 giants all staring at you, mocking you, thinking you're weak, didn't help out his self esteem in the least. A few minutes passed in silence. Dean was more or less waiting for Cas to get bored and leave and Cas was waiting for Dean to come out of hiding. He would wait all night, but knew his own resolve would crack and he'd likely pull Dean out from under that dresser, but not because he wanted to manhandle Dean, but to protect him from the other things that go bump in the night. Anything could still hurt him. Mice, rats, spiders. It didn't have to be supernatural related.

   The conversation outside went from one topic to the next, and the more time passed, the easier it was for them to forget the silly reason he was hiding in here. He mumbled to himself, 'Man up Winchester.' and heard Cas shuffle in place right after. Wait. How well can Cas hear him? He practically whispered, 'You can hear me can't you.' It wasn't a question but he got an answer in the form of a heavy sigh and foot tap. 'Great.'

   “Sorry.” was all he heard in the dim room.

   'Not your fault.' Dean sighed.

   Another long moment passed, Dean crept out slowly into the lighter area, looking up at Cas who was looking towards the door. He startled when he heard Cas speak again, “We should have asked if you wanted both of us to do that spell, to understand you. It might have been better with just Sam... We should have realized how much it can screw us up.” His gaze landed on his hands resting palm up on his lap. “I...” he started and stopped, frowning. “I'm sorry you don't really have a moment's peace. I'll leave you alone now.”

   Dean's heart lurched at that, sinking and stopping. Cas is blaming himself for this? It's really not his fault, no one knew the side effects of the spell, that emotions would be transferred as well, or even quiet mumblings could be heard from across the room. Besides, it was Dean who wanted it done in the first place. He wanted to be able to talk to them without resorting to sign language or written words all the time.

   Dean didn't want to be left alone. Ever. God this feels like being _abandoned._ Why does it hurt so much? The words Cas spoke and the ones repeating on a loop in Dean's head were vastly different, ' _I'm leaving you. I don't want you. You're going to be alone. I'll have a moments peace without you._ '

   'Cas?' Dean's watery voice called up loudly, ignoring the fact that he could be heard just fine from that far away, and that _that_ was one of the problems Cas was trying to solve. He felt his cheeks get hot and water run down his face as he left the safety of the dresser. 'Cas wait? Please? Don't leave me?' he was halfway across the floor, following the gigantic feet as they thundered along the floorboards, vibrating everything around. Dean should have been scared but he wasn't, not of the huge being that could crush him easily underfoot, but of the fact that it was his Cas that was leaving him. 'Please?' he slumped down in the middle of the floor, looking far up at the towering figure as it paused at the door, one hand on the knob and head bowed.

   “Dean. I could never leave you like that. I just don't know if you're any better off with or without me. Right now.” he sighed and looked over to the floor to see the dejected look on Dean's face. He frowned himself when he realized he couldn't even tell what Dean's face looked like from even this short distance away. “When I'm upset, the furthest thing on my mind is surrounding myself with the person that made me upset. I am sorry I chased you in here. I made it worse.” Cas sighed again. He forgot that Dean had abandonment issues, never having spoken about them out loud with Dean, it should have been clear as day from his time at the warehouse and in dealing with the others he was with. Dean must think it's his fault that everyone abandons him. And here Cas just said he was leaving too. He shouldn’t have followed him into the bedroom in the first place. The idea wouldn't have even crossed Dean's mind. Cas just had to shove it in his face like that. He just couldn’t stop himself from doing it, Dean's upset and he just wants to make it better.

   Sure it started off from being embarrassed about putting his man-hood in question, a simple misunderstanding turned into something bigger then it should have been. Dean chastised himself, he should have just insulted right back but having Cas think less of him for any reason, real or imaginary was just crushing him. He knew he was in deep, too deep. If all it took was one word to simply shatter him. He's got to be stronger then that, but thinking about Cas leaving him, this is just too much. He can't help it that his heart is breaking at the mere thought of Cas leaving.

   Logically he knows Cas meant he was giving him a little space, not ditching him, or breaking up with him. But... well shit. He'd rather die then be alone again. Cas filled the hole in his soul. 'Cas? Please?' the pleading tone in his warbling chirp broke Castiel's resolve to give him space.

   “Dean.” that one word holding everything. “Dean, I don't want to leave you.”

   'Really?' the quiet sound of his own voice was deafening. All those damned poets out there had it right, when you're in love, there really isn't anything you can do about it. You need that other person. Or maybe it's not love, maybe it's just an obsession? He doesn't know. Everything is just so fucked up. All he knows is that if Cas leaves now, he's going to give up.

   Cas turned around and knelt on the ground, slowly folding his legs under him to sit cross legged in front of Dean who made no further move closer then his collapsed hunch of wings and limbs. Cas reached forward in the short distance and gathered up Dean in his hands, bringing him up. The small hands and clawed feet gripping the fingers and palm like Cas would disappear if he let go. Even his tail curled around and hooked onto his wrist. 'This is the grand daddy of chick flick moments.' he rumbled but both of them knew it was profounder then that.

   “I don't see any women around.” Cas noted, a smile making its way onto his face at Dean's comment. If this is how Dean wants to deal, then so be it.

   'Not yet. C'mon lets get out of here before one of us starts growing lady parts.' Dean rumbled. Cas did not feel the need to mention that Dean never loosened his clawed grip.

   Cas held him closer and slowly stood up again, needing to bend forward to do so without jolting Dean too much. As they re-entered the living room, all the voices hushed a little and Cas knew he had to act quickly to restore the balance and air out the old awkward with a healthy dose of new refreshing awkward, “Definitely not flaccid.”

   At those three little words, the room erupted in laughter that Dean actually enjoyed this time. The thumb to his right stroked his side as a question if that was alright and Dean squeezed back his reassurance that all was ok, perfect.

   'Now who wants to see me set fire to this cabin?' he roared a little and huff-laughed when he saw some hands shoot up into the air after Sam translated. 'Well alright, someone get a bucket of dirt up in here and we'll get started.'

   Rufus was about to laugh but stopped when he saw that Sam was actually going outside to gather up dirt and sand. It was made apparent why when the candle was placed on a cookie sheet, and Dean blasted out his spray at the candle and making a two foot long fireball erupt from his mouth. He staggered back a couple of inches from it along with everyone else because he honestly wasn’t used to this yet. He knew he _could_ do it from memories but actually doing it in real life was quite unsettling. His throat felt warm and a little dryer now. He was now very aware of where the liquid was being kept and knew he had another shot in him if he wanted to take it. Before he could ready himself, he stopped at the wide eyed fright from his audience. The candle melted to nothing almost instantly and the wax wouldn't stop burning, a hole formed in the cookie sheet where the majority of his spray landed and the whole coffee table was at risk of burning. Movement all around the room unsettled him as the impact of his actions came to sharp focus. 'Whoops!'

   “NO! NOT WATER!” Cas shouted as Rufus went for his flask of holy water to douse the flames that started to get pretty tall and frightening within seconds. “It will explode!” Cas's hands were lifting Dean away in the same instant and the bucket was poured all over the table and its contents. Sam patted the base of the pail to get all of it out and covering the table. He tisked when he realized that he just buried his half smoked cigar that had been resting in the ashtray. Balth smugly waved his in his fingers, like he knew all along that this would happen. Sam bitchfaced at him and Balth just puffed away.

   'That actually got a little hot!' Dean exclaimed, wiping his burnt nose on Cas's hands and fanning himself with his right wing. 'Whoo!'

   “Are you alright?” Cas asked worriedly, checking him over for injury. Dean lifted up his wings for Cas's inspection and wagged his tail a little to show he was fine. He sneezed a few times and tiny sparks of fire ignited but didn't go anywhere before burning up in midair. Cas held him at arms length but away from the table and everyone else until he stopped sneezing. The whole little body curling up with each strong sneeze. The wings flapping downwards and back up as he inhaled sharply to sneeze again.

   He squinted at the little watery eyed dragon and finally wiped off Dean's nose with a tissue and then held that at arms length too, it being now flammable as hell as well. Seeing no good place to toss it, he put it on top of the dirt pile on the coffee table. It burst into smaller flames with the still crackling heat underneath it. “You ok?” he asked Dean again seeing him wiggle his nose and wipe it with his clawed fingers. He thought it was the cutest thing but refrained from saying so in front of everyone.

   'Fine, I guess I'm not flameproof when I’m snack sized.' he snorted again at the burning sensation inside his mouth and nose.

   “Your skin is too thin now.” Castiel surmised aloud. “You have to be more careful!”

   Rufus was still standing off to the side, away from the smoldering dirt covered coffee table. “That stops it right? The fire?”

   Sam cocked his head at the table, crackling wood still heard under the dirt. “Probably not.” he admitted, and motioned for him to grab the other end of it. Bobby walked to the front door and opened it wide enough for the two men, and soon the table was chucked out into the front driveway. After a few more seconds, it burst into flame again.

   Rufus whistled, more impressed then pissed that Dean basically ruined his table for fun. “Didn't like that table anyway.” at the relieved look on Dean's face he added, “Still owe me a new one though. Black metal with glass top.” Dean bobbled his head, chances are he'd be long gone before the bill came up so he agreed to replace it. If he dies, he doesn’t have to repay him, if he survives the shift back to human he could claim he doesn't remember anything and still not have to buy a new table. But then Cas goes and says that they'll get one asap. Responsible dork. Dean shook his head. Rufus looked like he liked the two civies better then his hunting buddies. Get a guy some liquor and a short knee-killing-table and he's your bestest friend? Whatever. Not jealous.

   No, ya know what? Screw that noise, Dean was a little put out by it, he saved Rufus's life once a few years back but all it takes to get a smile from the grumpy old hunter is a hunk of furniture? Calling bullshit. Dean's gonna have to ask Balth for birthday gift ideas since apparently he knows what people really want/need for true happiness. Maybe that's his superpower? Just how to use that in their current battle plan strategies is a mystery but they are nothing if not inventive in taking down fuglies, even if the fuglies in question are humans and not monsters. There's more then one kind out there, of that Dean and the others are certain.

   Cas followed the others outside and they all watched it burn in the dirt driveway. Balth wordlessly handed Rufus his keys to move his truck back from it, Sam looked over and was glad the Impala was on the other side of the cabin, far from the flames. The deadly implications of this were staggering. Even at just 6 inches tall, Dean could do a lot of damage with just one burst of his spray. Rufus and Bobby were already making the calculations in their head on how they can use it when Dean gets to be his full size again. The worlds most intense flame thrower that is controlled by their own monster.

   Sam was trying to think what Dean could use instead of a lighter to ignite the spray, getting him new 'sparker teeth' dentures. Perhaps a couple of large rocks that spark when struck together put into the cavities that are shaped like his old teeth. He'd need to wait for Dean to change back into his huge self, and get detailed measurements first but if it worked, then Dean gets his main weapon back. The enemy wont be expecting that. He could single handedly defeat the enemy once and for all.

   “Who's up for smores?” Balth said cheerily. 5 hands went up and one wing.

 

   Dinner was hotdogs and smores around the still burning coffee table with a few fallen limbs thrown on as the night progressed. An own hooted overhead and while Dean paid it no mind, he found himself in a cocoon of hands again for the 14th time that night.

   His voice came out muffled from his fleshy tomb, 'Cas, we talked about this. Personal space?'

   “No.” Cas stated firmly.

   'Ok, many good points, decent argument.. were you a lawyer in a past life?' Dean's muffled trill escaped the fingers and he could hear Sam laughing. Damn it felt good to hear that again. Sure the future looked bleak but so long as his family is together there's nothing that can stop them. But still, he has his dignity that's currently being overruled by ten lousy fingers. He's not some fragile pet bird or something. 'I'm not here to perch on your shoulder, Cas. I am a soldier. A warrior.'

   Castiel's eyes softened and he loosened up his grip a little and after a moments hesitation, he picked up Dean and plopped him onto his shoulder.

   Dean wobbled a little before clutching onto the tan coat underneath his clawed hands and feet. Hunching down suddenly at the new altitude. Ok, so this is a little scary being all exposed like this. How big are owls now? That video he remembered seeing years ago of an owl making off with a fat house cat did nothing to calm his jitters. Dean cleared his throat and forced himself to sit up on the shoulder and sighed, ok, so _he is_ here to perch on Cas's shoulder. But only to keep an eye out for trouble. This is just a better vantage point then a lap. Still a soldier. Still bad-ass.

   Cas leaned his head towards Dean and booped him on the nose with a sneaky finger. Snatching it back when Dean regained his balance enough to snap at it, fangs clicking loudly in his ear. He felt the vibrations of a chuckle underneath him and vowed swift retribution for that atrocity.

 

   They eventually made their way back inside, a pleasant buzz from the beer and hard liquor, and Rufus had a few ideas for how to get Dean into hunting shape. “You say you got a drone, Bobby?” a little smirk on his lips made Bobby's cheeks a little redder. The older hunters had always insisted on doing things the old 'tried and true' way. To many considered simply old fashioned.

   Bobby countered with Rufus's unspoken accusation with his own. “Well, we can't all rely on taking pictures of peoples ears to track them down. Some of us actually have to do some real legwork. Spy on the enemy up close.”

   Rufus's smirk turned into a grin and he waved a hand at his friend to settle his feathers. “All I'm saying you old coot is that we use the drone as a sparing partner for Dragon boy here to get trained up into taking down helicopters.”

   The others all looked at Dean and he squirmed again under the gaze. 'I can barely fly and you want me to do what now?'

   Sam translated for him and then said, “Once you're ok with flying, we can do like he said and step it up a notch.”

   'By having some huge machine chase me around the living room?!'

   The drone was only about a foot square side to side and 8 inches tall but to Dean it would seem like a car garage was chasing him.

   Balth gave him a childish incentive, “Hey Dean, the floor is lava.”

   Sam muffled a snicker and Cas lifted up his legs from the worn out carpet. Dean busted out laughing at the serious expression on his mate's face as he did it. The others followed suit except for Bobby who muttered, “Idjits.” under his breath. He was still healing and couldn't really lift his legs as easily. Rufus planned on getting an update from Bobby on his health and healing after all the kids went to bed.

   Dean flapped a few times, pleased that with all the exercise and massive amounts of food he's given, he is feeling stronger and stronger. Maybe it's monster metabolism and healing, but whatever it is, it's awesome. He flapped his way from Castiel's lap on over to Sam's which was at least 4 feet away, and rested for only a minute before flying to Balthazar's next from across the room and then after just a moments hesitation, aimed for Rufus’s lap. Rufus, not yet used to seeing a tiny monster gallivanting around the place without any restraint or care in the presence of hunters, held his hands up to catch him. For Rufus's own safety, or the monster's, not even he knew in that split second, it was just instinct to raise his hands up in a grabbing motion when some bat-winged thing was hurtling over towards him. Rufus cursed his own reaction as Dean faltered in midair on his flight on over, clearly regretting the decision to go in that direction but with too much momentum to just stop cold. Cas was halfway out of his seat to come to the rescue but Rufus dropped his hands to his sides when he thought that catching Dean would hurt more then help. Dean hovered for a moment, loosing height but still slowly moving forward, as the huge hands made way for him on the lap. He collapsed into it panting.

   A few moments passed as Dean tried to get that sight out of his head. He trusted Rufus along with everyone else here but those huge hands aiming for him sent a chill up his spine. Anyone at all could hurt him, even if they were trying to help him. His wings folded in again after he shook off the residual shivers. He turned to the side and saw that Rufus was actually debating whether or not to pet him. He mentally shrugged at that. It's only natural to want to pet things in your lap. Dean waited for it but the hand closest just hovered a little before resting again at the side. He was grateful for that, only Cas gets to pet him. Whoa. That thought came out of nowhere. He looked over towards Cas who settled back into his seat on the couch. Seeing that Dean was no longer in danger of falling. He then tracked his path from around the room and was actually impressed with himself a little.

   Rufus slouched down and grinned at Dean's triumphant face. They were distracted by Balth's announcement. “Well, I’m ready for another beer, anyone else?” he got a few nods and then threw down a couple of pillows from the couch and as Casually as possible, used them as stepping stones to go to the kitchen and avoid the hot magma coating the floor. The living room erupted in laughter. He balanced nimbly on a pair of discarded shoes, kicking one to be closer to the cooler and got out a few beers before trekking his way back to the lava covered living room.

   “So, since your aerial abilities are getting better, I don't see why we couldn't start learning some kick ass moves and tactics we can use in the field.”

   'Literal or figurative?' Dean quipped.

   “First one then the other.” Sam thumbed out the window towards the small field that lay beyond.

   “But you should rest for now.” Castiel said, worried that Dean's pushing himself too hard too soon. Dean could see how empty Cas's lap was and after readying himself one last flight that night, took off back to his rightful spot on Cas's lap. Cas didn't wait for permission as he started to stroke his fingers along Dean's spine, a finger or two on each side of his line of spikes to get the muscles underneath the scales. Massaging away the knots and potential muscle cramps. The fingers worked their magic and only Cas could hear the contented purr coming from Dean as he hunkered down. Dean was draped over Castiel's right thigh as he sat cross-legged to keep his feet from the ground. Dean's head at the knee, and tail limp pointing to his hip, the wings slowly opened up again but just to give Cas better access to the wing's shoulder muscles. The long thin fingers flexing in time with the microscopic circles the fingertips made. The fingerprint ridges alone were awesome because at this difference in size, when they trailed up and down, it actually vibrated minutely and Dean just wanted to give his Cas all the awards for greatest back rub ever. He may or may not have slipped into unconsciousness for a few minutes while the others chatted and updated the newest member to the group.

   Rufus raised an eyebrow at the scene on the couch between Dean and that Castiel fella, and looked to Bobby and Sam. Bobby motioned that they can talk about it later in private. He had little doubt that Rufus would be ok with it, but on the off chance that he wasn't, Dean didn't need to hear the fallout or arguments about what is and is not proper for monster/human relationships.

   Dean could scent it in the air anyway, knowing that the sight of him and Cas like this was confusing, but ignored it, the scents weren’t strong enough to worry about it. 'Sides, he knows that the others are all for team Dean-Castiel... stupid name, needs to be shortened. What about Dea-stiel... Destiel. Perfect. Sounds like a Brangelina, or Bennifer kinda thing but whatever.

   When there were more yawns then words, they called it a night and played Rochambeau for the beds again. Cas and Dean couldn't play because they'd already fallen asleep sitting up on the couch. Sam gently pulled Dean from Castiel's lax hand and with his other hand pushed on the slumped shoulder until his friend was more horizontal. Cas shuffled a little until he was laying flat on his back and a limp hand came up, almost seeking something out around his chest and stomach. Sam huffed a little chuckle at that as Dean too was wiggling a little, little hands clutching the air towards Cas. He moved Dean up and down and side to side and it looked like Dean was so in tuned with Cas that he knew where he was even while asleep. Must be able to feel the body heat or scents. Sam and Dean had always shared a room, whether it was in a hotel or Bobby's spare room, and about 7 months ago, Bobby's basement and garage when Dean grew past the 12 foot mark, they always found comfort in being there for each other. It was usually out of necessity, not wanting monsters to get the jump on them if they were alone in the room. Dean seemed to have found another source of comfort so he placed Dean back on his rightful spot over Castiel's heart. The blanket from the back of the couch was pulled over them and the others shuffled off to bed.

   Sam ended up on the floor in the living room behind the couch where the carpet provided just a little bit more cushion. “Night guys,” he mumbled and the room fell silent for the night.

   The next day found nearly all of them outside in the open field with Dean and the drone in the middle of the circle. Dean looked about as nervous as possible with Cas crouching down to be more eye level. With everyone there, it was very unlikely that a predator would drop on by, but still, Everything seemed to stretch out in every direction with no ceiling or walls to block the wind, birds of prey or anything. The hunters were armed just to put Dean's mind at ease a little. If Bambi wanted to do a revenge hit on the dragon, they'd be ready.

   When a cricket jumped past him, he flinched a little and berated himself. Too damned jumpy. He saw a ladybug crawling along a leaf on the ground and just to hear Castiel's laugh, he started to hunch down and stalk it. Ass end wiggling in the air like a cat with his wings laid low to the ground. He heard Cas stand again, fabric shifting behind him and his tail twitched in response to being the one stalked as well.

   “What are you doing?” the deep voice rumbled from overhead, Dean cocked his head to the side to look all the way up to Cas's face and hissed for silence. That laugh he got in response made it all worth it and he pounced on the unsuspecting ladybug. He held it in one hand and watched it fly off into the sky.

   'Ah well, it got away.' he shrugged.

   “It is imperative that we find you a worthy animal to hunt. One of equal class, rank, and standing.” Cas said with all seriousness. His eyes scanned the ground and he tried to keep the amusement out of his voice when he said he spotted such an opponent and pointed out a dragon-fly.

   'Fuckin perfect!' Dean chirped and bound after the dragonfly. Leaping up and missing it by feet.

   “Oh my God, where's my camera?” Sam mumbled, and fumbled for his cell. Dean heard him and stopped abruptly, sticking his forked tongue out at his skyscraper tall brother.

   Bobby had to sit with the controller in his lap since yesterday he must have pulled something during that run. Dean stayed fairly close to the middle of hunters and friends on the ground as Bobby carefully made the drone lift off and hover close by, and then circle around Dean a couple of times. Dean had to get used to the sight and sound of something that big and dangerous hovering overhead.

   “If you wreck this drone, you win.” Bobby announced. All eyes went to him, mouths slack. Bobby clarified. “If he can learn how to take it down, then he can easily take out a helicopter. It would be worth loosing the hunk of metal and plastic for that kind of learned skill.”

   Dean backed up to sit on his haunches and rubbed his front paws together. Challenge accepted. He saw the drone take off again and leaped after it, jumping and trying to lift off of the ground with his wings pumping hard. It was a whole lot easier to fly when he was already up high on something like a counter, table, or lap. The drone cut in front of him and he dropped a few inches to the ground, gasping and shooting Bobby a scathing look.

   Bobby simply replied with a pointed look that said, 'You think they're gonna take it easy?'

   Dean shook himself off and was glad Bobby at least gave him a second to get going again before making it dive bomb him yet again. He leaped up and actually got some air enough to glide over it as it swooped under. A round of claps echoed around him and he beamed for just a second before he tripped up on his own wings in mid air. He landed in a tumble and flapped twice to straighten himself out once all his feet were accounted for. Sharp eyes always on the drone. He had to ignore the torrent of feelings and scents around him from his friends and family, putting it aside and hissing at the drone, shooting off some of his spray.

   The fans kept whirring and the spray only managed to be misplaced and pushed towards the ground. If he wants to coat it in that spray he's got to do it from above so that the fans actually suck it into the engines instead of blowing it down.

   Dean took off on a run, making a wide circle as his wings started pumping again. He jumped onto Castiel's knee to get some height and heard a tisk sound from Rufus. 'Who says there aren't going to be any cliffs when I fight the choppers?!' he shot back and kept flapping, getting some height. Only belatedly realizing that was the first time he spoke while flying. It must be getting easier if he's that relaxed. He spotted the drone hovering about 5 feet off of the ground and made for a spot above it. Panting hard to try and get more lift out of his wings. He beamed at the encouraging words from everyone and the drone was getting closer and closer to his reach. Then Bobby, the asshole, made it shoot straight up into the air and Dean had to act fast or else crash into it. Classic training move to force the student into thinking on their feet.

   Dean flipped to his left and his clawed hands and feet clutched onto the thin metal guard around one of the corners of it, protecting the fan. The buffeting wind distracted him from the fact that the drone and dragon were falling from the air. He flapped furiously and spat out his spray at the fan, seeing a spark ignite inside it and kicking his feet free from it at the last second. An unimpressive puff of black smoke erupted from the fan and it slowed to a stop, the other three fans taking over and the drone wobbled in place, still flying high while Dean was floundering. He landed on his feet at least and panted heavily. The others clapped and encouraged him on and he waved a weak wing at them. Bobby's tongue was peeking from his lips as he tried to compensate for the lost fan.

   Dean sprinted to the underside of the drone and waited for it to fall. He realized this was kinda cheating so he jumped up and snapped his jaws in the air just under the broken fan. He landed again and walked a little ways away and started flying again. He had to keep moving forward in the air or else sink to the ground. His wings were never meant to hover. So he spiraled up to the drone as the wind from the three remaining fans threatened to cut him up into a million pieces. Gasps were heard and he had to put that out of his mind as well.

   'Jus' you and me, Buddy.' he growled and after gaining just a few more inches in height, he cleared the broken fan then flipped himself upside down and latched onto the main body of the drone from underneath. His body quickly lined up with the drone's machinery and away from the spinning fans, his wings folded in a split second later and he used his weight alone to bring the drone down.

   Right on top of himself.

   Bobby's eyes went wide and he hit the kill switch on the drone, scared that he just killed Dean for a stupid training session. The sound was nothing earth shattering, but to them, it was devastating. A crunch of metal and a pained cry. Everyone rushed forward and Dean felt the heavy drone lift from his chest and stomach. It managed to crush the breath out of him and he coughed and chocked on his words. The drone was tossed viciously to the side and he felt warmth from hands all over himself. His eyes were fuzzy and he whined when someone touched his left hand. He jerked it closer to his chest and cried out again when he felt another sharp pain coming from his left foot too.

   The hands stilled in their inspection and he could hear and smell a jumble of words and emotions. It was all too much for him, too loud and stressful and above all _painful_. He felt a cloud come over his vision, black and ominous and felt himself slipping away into it as if he was drifting out to sea. He fought against it, but it was stronger then him. Everything turned numb and it looked as if he was seeing everyone through a tunnel. The edges turning black and cloudy, he whimpered, ' _no,_ ' before the light winked out.

   “Everybody stand back! Give him some room!” Bobby shouted and Sam handed over Dean's twitching body to the old hunter.

   “Is he breathing?”

   “Shit. Shit. _Fucking shit,_ why did we do this?”

   “Everybody calm down, he's gonna be fine. Just a little blood.” Bobby's voice said a little strained, gently lifting up each of Dean's legs and giving them a very minute wiggle, looking towards Dean's face for any sign that they're broken. Because Dean is so damned little, the breaks wouldn't be noticeable to them at all unless his limbs were actually falling off. Dean had gotten his left side stuck inside the rotating blade housing and the fans cut through his scales in several places. Most of it was just surface damage but a few were deep enough to bleed. Bobby held out his hand and a strip of torn cloth was thrust into it. He sat back in his chair again and used his lap as a table as he set about tying up Dean's injured foot and then the tiny hand in another strip of cloth.

   The small eyes shot open just as the fabric brushed by the open wound and a terrified scream came out of him.

   “It's ok, ok Dean, we're just patching you up.”

   Another scream ended with a roar and suddenly the small body was writhing in his lap, trying to right itself. “Stay still, Dean! We gotta get the bleeding stopped before you can stand up. Calm down!”

   The dragon stilled for just a second before a pain filled screech came from the mouth and the struggling intensified. More ear piercing screeches followed with some growls and sad warbling. Bobby looked to Sam and Cas to tell them what Dean said but the confused looks on both of their faces were disconcerting.

   “Well? What's he saying?”

   Sam looked up first and said helplessly, “He's...” at a total loss of words Sam shrugged, “He's scared. Thinks we are monsters trying to eat him.”

   “What?” Bobby turned to Cas who had a tear slide down his cheek.

   Castiel's normally gravely voice wavered, “This isn't Dean.”

   All eyes went down to the struggling dragon as he tried to bite and claw at Bobby's hand that was draped over him, pinning his shoulders in place to keep him down. The writhing got more intense the longer it dragged out. One particular harsh bite had Bobby recoiling his hand and the dragon quickly flipped around and tried to take off into the air, away from all of the huge terrified and terrifying men. His wings opened up but he was set upon instantly by Rufus and Sam who knew that if they let him, the dragon would fly away and never look back.

   Hands pinned his wings down on all sides. Now that they knew they weren't dealing with a rational thinking being anymore, they went straight into hunter mode. Cas and Balth saw the shift in demeanor, worry spiking up to new heights. Rufus was the first to get his hands around Dean's body underneath the pinched wings. He lifted the dragon up slowly and the wings were folded in forcefully by someone else. Rufus lifted up a few fingers to include the wings in his gentle but firm grip and he tucked the small body close to his chest.

   Rufus said, “My cousin raised chickens, this is how you carry them so they don't freak out and hurt themselves.” he explained and thought about how most chickens don't have fangs as the dragon was now trying to bite through the sleeves to get to his flesh. “Someone wanna get the door?” he asked as he started walking back towards the cabin.

   Balth jumped to his feet and sprinted forward, throwing the door open and allowing everyone inside before shutting it firmly and locking it. They all stood around Rufus and the little dragon as its little chest was trying to breath as fast as possible. Bobby frowned and looked up to Sam who was at a loss. The small growls and whimpering chirps were clearly breaking his and Castiel's heart. Whatever it was saying, was making them feel like shit.

   “It's not really him, it's gonna be ok once we get him straightened out.” Bobby said.

   Balth spoke up, “Question,” Sam looked up with a strained expression and waited, “Is this the hybrid or pure dragon?”

   Castiel's frown deepened, he croaked out around the suddenly tight throat, “Dragon.”

   “Well, _shit_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Rufus!  
> And Meg's brother is CROWLEY?!   
> Sorry again for the continued lateness of these chapters, my computer was being an assbutt for weeks and deleting sections of story instead of saving them. It was very trying for me because I had to rewrite it going off vague ideas about what the hell I wrote when I was sleep deprived. This is still good, but I honestly don't pay attention to what I write half the time, it just goes where it wants. Just last night my Best friend Jason came by and fixed my computer and programs so I can FINALLY get this chapter out to you guys without risking its demise.   
> (Did I ever say what Meg's brother's name was? if he was older or younger? what chapter?? I honestly don't remember if I ever did. I kept it vague for the longest time because I couldn't decide if I wanted it to be just a nameless victim or one of the spn characters. ) I like Crowley and originally he was supposed to be a guy that wanted to buy Dean as a spoiled pet but that story idea got nixed pretty early on and I kept on coming up blank with where to add him. This way it's like he's there from the start even if we didn't know it!   
> btw, I like to mix up lines people say in the show with who says them for shits and giggles. Sorry if this is too disconcerting!


	28. Make a Dragon go into Retirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( sooo many feels, fyi. )  
> The dragon has landed. And he is NOT ready for anything. Just leave him be for 5 minutes... seriously.

Chapter Twenty Eight:  
Make a Dragon go into Retirement  
  


  
  
     The first thing the Drauglin felt is a ever increasing pounding throb in his head. The painful sensation trailed quickly down his spine to his extremities, shooting up from his left foot and also stinging his hand, and a new ache coming from the areas around them from additional wounds. The cycle repeating every few seconds as he slowly came back from the black. Sensations of his parted  skin being open to the air, muscles tensing and flinching at every slight breeze. Muscles should never feel the air like this and it burned white hot. Other then that, his head was stuffed with cotton and promptly set on fire. Shoving it all aside with great effort, he tried to become more alert to things outside of the lava burning his nerves from the inside out. There's a reason why there's pain spiking everywhere at once. Something's gone horribly wrong. He felt something slowly drip down his foot and arm, smells like iron or copper, too thick to be water, and put two and two together and figured out it must be blood flowing from his body.  
    There was pressure all along his back but it was softer then the ground and moving slightly. His sense of direction was thrown off due to the strange angle his body was in combined with the texture of the surface he was on. Why the fuck was he laying on his back? Stomach exposed? Is he being attacked? Killed? What the fuck even has that kind of strength to flip him over and cause him this much pain?!  
    He could feel more pressure on his leg now, encircling it and that caused his self examination to be forgotten immediately as something brushed against his foot, causing the exposed muscle tissue and skin to move with it and sending mind numbing anguish all up and down his leg towards the rest of his body. A scream shot out of him and he writhed around, trying to get whatever was attacking his foot to let go. His vision was far from reliable because his eyes wouldn't cooperate. They were squeezed shut from the intense agony and refused to take in any of the damage visually. He couldn't see anything besides bright green, brown, beige, and blue blurs between hard eyelid squints when he could force them open a split second at a time. Shapes didn't even have a chance to form in his eyesight or mind. A rumbling sound overhead shook his whole body at the same time something took hold of his other leg and gave it a shake, then moved onto his uninjured arm. They hurt from the pressure alone, but not nearly as much as when the thing took a firm grasp of his torn up hand and squeezed it as it shook side to side, it was trying to rip off his arm! That act increased the agony tenfold before it let go entirely with another very loud rumbling sound overhead that managed to drown out most of his second anguished scream. His legs tried to kick away the thing that was overpowering his arms. Something shoved his body into the soft ground but he struggled harder to get up.  
    'Let go! Please, please just let go! Stop! You're killing me!' he begged and screamed at whatever was trying to claw at his hand now. He was terrified because in order for something to be doing that much damage had to be huge, after a second he assumed it was another dragon, but when his eyes finally opened a little he was left reeling from the sight.  
    A massive being was leaning over him. It's head and body alone took up nearly all of his vision. Two protrusions from the body were touching him all over, they kinda looked like his hands but claw-less and bigger then trees! The next few seconds of sight connected the hands to arms that encircled around him. The magnitude of the thing made his heart stutter and a terrified whimper let out. The hands came back in and effortlessly snagged his injured hand in a few of the fingers. They eased down towards his arm and made it wiggle. He screamed in pain at that and the thing thankfully stopped for a second and frowned deeply. Shit, he pissed it off!  
    'Please, don't hurt me, please!' he whined just before another scream erupted from him when his muscles tensed between the fingers larger then his legs. The fingers stretched out his arm and he could feel the pulse underneath them. Only a split second for him to think about the fact that this thing was alive and not an evil demonic spirit. The thing's other hand came in with a thin white strip of something. His arm was transferred down to be held tight by the smallest finger on the hand that was bigger then his whole body. That single finger squeezed his whole arm so tight so that he couldn't ever hope to pull away. He was forced to keep it still, with his bleeding hand sticking straight up towards the monster.  
    With the other huge fingers free, they grasped one end of the white strip and placed it next to his arm and the other huge hand started wrapping up his hand in it. Fuck this hurts so fucking bad. He tried to growl but it came out more like a pained screech because the white thing snagged on a piece of his broken skin. Too small for the gigantic monster to notice, it actually opened up the wound a little more before a single thread of the white thing released and slid onto his wrist. The feel was like a flat snake wrapping around his forearm and hand, tugging here and there on his skin. He could feel a couple of his bloody scales tear free of the gash, slide along with the white thing as it moved against his skin, and then were pinned down along his arm when that part of it tightened. The loosed scales would stay pinned there until the strange white thing around his arm is removed. The wound itself belched out some more blood from all the movement before settling down and closing slightly. He was too distracted to care about that, more alerted to the fact that he was at this monster's mercy as it continued to ignore his pleas. The white thing continued up his arm towards his flexing hand. Claws useless at this point against something so callous, in every sense of the word.  
    Far too powerful to fight against the tug and pull of the giant hand, he whimpered. He found that his foot was already bound, and that was probably why it hurt so badly. He tried to tug his leg free of the thing that was holding it but when that proved useless, he considered biting his foot off to save himself. He'd have to wait for the thing's attention to move on first. His injured fingers were all forced together, closer and closer the more layers of white were added to the outside, and no amount of clawing at the white strip thing from the inside eased up on the pressure added from the outside.  
    Thoughts raced in his head, time seemed to slow down so that he could experience every second of this torment, one injury at a time. He longed to just black out again. Go back to wherever he was before this. But he couldn't, that would mean certain death. He had to live. He had to at least try!  
    Could he bite off his hand and foot and still get away? He'd have to cauterize the wounds first... he felt his fuel levels were nearly out. Fuck. He ran his tongue along his teeth in thought and stopped when he reached his back teeth, or rather, where they should have been. They were missing?! When the hell did that happen?! His tongue frantically checked and double checked and found five small dips where there should have been rough mounds. Very small hard bumps were found at the bottom of the tooth wells, but that was small comfort. They took away his fire teeth. But then, why the hell did they remove one of his regular teeth too? Were they interrupted in removing all of his teeth? What the fuck is going on?!  
    Thunders could be heard overhead, he was too out of it to make out what the sounds really were. Like no rainstorm he'd ever listened to before. It seemed to come from all around him, reverberating through him and shaking his very bones. Sometimes the thunder sounded differently, coming from different angles but all his focus was on the monster in front of him, and trying to escape.  
     He struggled harder against the hold and jerked his hand back from the fingers. Apparently the monster was done trapping that hand because there was no way he was able to take his hand back on his own if the monster wasn't finished with it yet. He squirmed and wriggled, trying to get his wings tucked in so he could get back onto his feet again, all the while waves of pain were cycling up and down his whole body. He'd just gotten his good foot turned downwards into the soft ground when he was pinned down by one of the huge hands with such ease that it made his stomach churn. The pain was unbearable when the strips tightened one last time around his foot and ankle by the monster's huge free hand.  
    Another massive thing was now leaning over, casting his whole world in shadow because this one was even taller then the first! Soaring into the sky like nothing he's ever seen. That one was dark brown, and the one that was tying him up was the color of sand and looked more like a balding bear or beaver. Both monsters were covered in things that were different colors, not found in any forest he's been in, and rippled when the huge monster's moved. The dark one was wearing a dark red covering over his body and the sand colored one was covered in red and brown squares. The monsters made noises at each other that were far too loud for his ears and he screamed and roared at them, 'Stop! Let me go right now!' he tried to muster up some rage behind it but he was too frightened by this unnatural sight.  
    The sand colored furry one licked his lips as it kept him pinned down and only one conclusion entered his head. He was going to be eaten by these monsters! They were getting rid of what little defenses he had against them! Removing his teeth, fire, his claws, soon they'll probably just remove his head! Or did they like their food to still be alive when they ate it? That would explain why they're messing with him instead of being kind and killing him straight off. He'd never be that cruel to the animals he ate. He always would kill them first. These things had no soul! No conscience! Can't they see he's in pain? Fucking assholes! They want him to suffer! Feel those teeth rip his body apart, or swallow him whole. Then be dissolved in stomach acid until death finally takes him. None of this is natural! It's immensely cruel! You don't torture your food before you eat it!  
    'You monsters!' he spat, kicking with his good leg and squirming around to try and stand up. 'I'm not gonna let you take me down and eat me without a fight!'  
    He had nothing to loose now, begging wouldn't do any good against these terrible beasts, so he bared his fangs and bit down on the skin closest to his head. He didn't get a good grip the first time so he angled his head awkwardly and tried again, finally sinking his sharp fangs into the thick hide of the bear-like monster. One seconds hesitation from the hand pinning him down had given him enough time to flip onto his feet. His hand and foot felt like they were on fire but he shoved it aside, he'd just have to bite them clean off later to get rid of the white things. Whatever they are, were bad only because it was put on him by the monsters. It can't be good so it's gotta go, along with his limbs. He mentally berated himself, 'Don't think about that now! Escape you fucking idiot!'  
    He snapped his wings out at once. Intending to fly away from these monstrous things. At least his wings were still solid, unharmed, if a little sore. He'd just have to push through that pain as well, he had to get away. He flapped them once but instantly felt the world crashing down, and crushing him into the soft ground. He grunted and gasped for air. More thunder overhead and around and he could see the ground so far away. His eyes trailed up and he saw the rest of the dark skinned monster standing on the ground, and that the Drauglin was actually laying down on the bent legs of the sand skinned monster. His surprise didn't last long before more hands were pinning his body and legs down. Sliding underneath his body and then swiftly and easily lifting him up into the sky.  
    His protest got lost in his throat when he saw so many of the being's legs stretch out below him. Four monsters! One with a cloud white covering with light brown over top, and one with green coverings were now seen. His gaze snapped left and right and found one last one in the area, standing off to the side and looking sad. Maybe it wanted the first bite and the alpha monsters already called dibs. He growled out to that one that was wearing a long tan colored thing, 'Guess you're gonna have to find your own Drauglin to eat!'  
    Right after he said that, his attention was forced back to Red, the dark one, who was still holding onto his body as one covered in green was now folding up his wings one at a time. 'Fuck you! Let me go!' His other wing was forcibly folded and pinned down next to his body with ridiculous ease. Then he felt the sickening sensation again as his body was pulled in close to the living wall of muscles holding him. He felt a rumble from behind the wrinkled thing covering the monster's skin and with a jolt of clarity, he realized that the thunder was just these things growling. His gaze snapped to one of the arms and he bit at it repeatedly but couldn’t get his mouth open wide enough to do more then surface damage. No blood spilled. All of his struggled proved useless as the whole herd started to move and he swallowed down a new fear.  
    They were moving to a huge brown thing that was on the ground, large as a mountain but unlike any he'd ever seen before. This one was square shaped with a peak, and surrounded by things that couldn't possibly be trees, but looked like them all the same. The whole area looked just like a forest now that his eyes were coming into clearer focus and he paled at the sight of it. Was he taken into a gigantic world?  
    The thought no sooner occurred to him when he was brought towards that brown mountain made up of massive trees apparently. All laying down, one on top of the other to form walls. He marveled at the structure. He never would have considered making a nest out of trees like that. It had a cover on it too! His amazement turned to horror when he realized they were bringing him inside the structure. Nothing he could do could stop them from entering and then closing the huge hole with another flat thing that looked like it was made of a split tree. The air became still inside, and smoky stale. So many scents assaulting him he had to push them all aside and sort through them later. The light had faded to almost nothing inside, swallowed up by shadows and only a few holes in the structure let in light but there was something there that wasn't clearly seen. Smears and things hanging in mid-air in the square openings that kept the wind from coming in. It looked like water but perfectly clear and upright. Ice? But it was too warm for ice. His attention snapped to the side again when the monster carrying him came to a stop in the middle of the square tree nest. The other monsters coming to stand all around, all eyes on him and making him feel even more intimidated.  
    Something primal snapped in him and he was even more pissed at his situation, the demons, and the world in general for letting these awful things even exist. 'I hope you choke on my bones you assholes!' he growled and hissed at the things all hovering around him, thundering with their mouths and making the earth shudder with their evil power. A silence came over the throng and he sensed and smelled the air shifting between them. Wait. Half of them were worried? What the fuck?  
    Now that they were inside this structure, all of the scents were concentrated and he could pick out each giant's own scent and intentions. The cloud white covered giant that had a different sounding rumble seemed to be asking something from the others. But that's impossible! No way could these things communicate intelligently. Cloud got an answer from the long tan covered giant that was just radiating sadness and despair. That floored him. That kind of melancholy couldn't come from just a missed meal. He seemed to be sad for the Drauglin. But why? Why would that one give a shit? The others were quiet as well, the one that bound his hand and foot frowned behind that tuft of fur around his mouth. Something was covering his head, probably to keep his head from being attacked from above. Red was mostly bald, but didn't put anything on his head. Is this one is the leader? He is the only one wearing a thing the color of dried blood. A symbol of his deadly status? Red is still gripping onto his little body in its hands.  
    The Drauglin tried to process all that he was seeing in a way that made sense. No one was trying to eat him now, but they could be discussing it. He had no idea. His eyes kept on finding the green covered and tan covered ones. Something about them looked so damned familiar, but it was the scents that kept tripping him up. They totally smelled familiar, like he'd known them before. But that's impossible, he's pretty sure he'd remember giant monsters from his past. But maybe... maybe they weren’t the ones that were gigantic...  
    He kept his nose tuned to them and heard more of the rumbles, sorting through his memories it suddenly hit him.  
    'Greenie?!' he called over, startling himself with the revelation. Three of them ignored the call but two of them didn't. Their eyes went straight to him and he noticed that the tan one was familiar as well. 'Tanner. You're Tanner, aren't you?'  
    Those two were silent and looking at each other quizzically and then back to him. Dammit, he knew those faces, expressions, and scents. They hung around him for long enough in the woods to make an impact, enough for him to want to adopt the young little things and keep them safe. 'Tanner? How the fuck did you guys get so big? And you, Greenie, what happened? I left you two in the tree to protect you from that black metal monster that was eating the others...' He trailed off and took a closer look at two of the other giants. Their scents weren't as familiar but now that he could place it, it clicked. These two were trapped inside a metal beast and he had been desperate to free them. Then something was pushing at his mind, like nothing he'd ever felt before. The world went fuzzy and he woke up in pain on that one's enormous lap.  
    'Seriously, baby boys, what happened. Tell Daddy what happened.' He had to try and talk to them, get some answers even though communication was never the strongest between them. 'Did that black metal thing do this to you? Tell me everything kids.' he felt that wave of protectiveness wash over him, even though he was the only one that was bound up and pinned down right now. The kids looked mostly unharmed, Tanner was a little roughed up, but healthy enough to stand on his own. Bruises were seen here and there, and he favored his left side. Now that he was paying attention, Greenie had some bruising as well. The boys probably got into a fight with each other. Over what, he didn't know.  
    Greenie and Tanner were approaching him and the other three giants leaned forward as well, he couldn't keep the worried trill from escaping him. Reality coming back to him that the roles were reversed now. 'So.. uhhh... since I tried saving your lives... wanna repay the favor? Help Daddy out?' he could swear that he saw recognition in his adopted kids eyes. Like they actually understood him. 'You guys ok?'  
    A nod.  
    He sucked in a breath then Red's brown hands that were holding onto him, tightened a fraction. Greenie was rumble growling something and Red growled something back that sounded like a warning. Then Greenie gave Red a slightly pissed off look with his lips thinned and eyes narrowed. The word bitchface came to mind and that seemed to fit even if he'd never heard the term before.  
    Greenie got right up into Red's face and a hand came up and pointed at his chest and then the Drauglin. All the while growling something. Red nodded warily and Greenie nodded back encouragingly. 'What the hell's going on, kid?' he chirped warily upwards to his towering kid. The question was answered when Greenie's hands came up like a bowl and Red's hands loosened their grip. He immediately snapped his wings out but that made Greenie and the others look very tense. He slowly flapped them, head cocking at the gathering around him. He scanned the area and figured that the only way for him to escape is to actually look for an escape route. Some more warning growls from all of the others had Red grip him again, too tight for his liking, he started to bite at the fingers he could reach. A hiss above him of pain sent something satisfying running through him. Good. They hurt him and now he gets to hurt them back!  
    Greenie was suddenly just there and lifting up his body from the first pair of hands. All the while rumbling something unintelligible at him that was probably supposed to be consoling. His view shifted a few times when Greenie turned this way and that, looking for something, and his stomach lurched each time his body swooped side to side. Feeling like he's going to throw up, he had enough courtesy to say so. 'Greenie, if you don't put me down Ib.. I'mm gonna loose my lunch-ch.' and swallowed thickly. Tanner also straightened up and suddenly there was another hand on his body. Tanner started to stroke his neck and back and rumbled softly.  
    'Man I wish I could understand you.' he grumbled himself. 'If you can understand me, then why haven't you let me go? I asked nicely enough haven't I?'  
    Tanner looked devastated and Greenie flinched a little. The jolt running straight to the hands holding him in place. None of the other three reacted to him, but they did react to his giant kids. Tanner seemed to actually say something and then the other three also frowned at him.  
    'Can they understand me?'  
    Tanner shook his head. 'Then please, Tanner, tell them to let your Daddy go? I'm hurt and scared and this is just wrong, I don't like it here. You kids can come too, I'd like that, I want that.' He tried. Maybe his kids were just waiting for him to forgive them? 'I don't care that they hurt me, it's alright. We're together now.' another thought occurred to him, one that ticked him off. He whispered it so that the other three giants in the room couldn't hear. 'Don't tell them I said this, but nod if you're being tortured and forced to stay here too.'  
    Both Tanner and Greenie frowned at that and shook their heads. They seemed to dislike what he said as if it weren't the truth. That he hadn't just been tortured. Weren't they watching? Or maybe they're used to being hurt...  
    'So why are you staying here? Are they your real family?'  
    Greenie bobbled his head a little, rumble talking to the other three, apparently telling them what he said. It was his turn to frown now. Greenie just betrayed his unspoken trust to keep this between the three of them, the other giants didn't need to be involved in this. But, just that quick, he knew that his kids had already found their family and don't need him anymore. Of course, what good was he to them now that they are the size of hills or small mountains? Nothing in the world could take them on now. He refused to admit that he was at his kid's mercy as well as those others. They chose a side. And it wasn't his.  
    Tanner seemed to pick up on his train of thought and rumbled something to him. Then again but slower. His hand came back up and it stroked along his spine and scales. It felt alright, but the reasoning behind it was a little murky.  
    'It's ok. You found your real family. You don't need me anymore.' he said and hoped that his kids understood. 'You can just wait till midnight and let your old Daddy go. I can make it alright by myself. I'm just glad that you found your family.' he was unable to fully keep the dejected feeling out of his voice.  
    Both kids shook their heads violently. Trying to talk to him again and then the others. 'Stop telling them everything I'm saying! They don't need to know. You're just making it harder for me to leave. I get it. At least, I think I do... they caught me when I was trying to free them from the black metal monster. Did that monster do this to you guys?'  
    Both shook their heads. At which question, he wasn't sure. If he was going to get answers, he would have to get creative. But before he could say anything else, the one wearing cloud white and light brown came in carrying something metal with countless straight lines in a square box like shape. Cloud turned the thing and he saw that it was like nothing he'd ever seen before. The word cage came to mind and he suddenly knew what that was. He didn't even have time to wonder when Cloud left to get the cage before Greenie was being nudged closer to it, and by extension, the Drauglin. The intent was crystal clear.  
    'Greenie? Greenie! Don't do this! No!' his protests turned desperate as information flooded his mind in short bursts. Cages were bad. When he's in a cage, bad things happen to him. Unimaginable pain happens. He can never get out. Cages were for bad things. Put the bad thing in the cage and keep it there. But he's not bad! He just wants to leave them alone! Thoughts tumbled over themselves as panic flooded his system.  
    Cloud handed off the cage to Bear and Red opened it up for him. Greenie's grip got a little tighter as his hands quivered. Cloud took a few steps back to give the other giants room. 'Tanner! Tanner help!' he tried crying out but found Tanner taking a step back, Cloud now wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 'Don't do this! I'm not bad!' he whined but was overruled and overpowered yet again as his body was thrust into the cage. The hands loosened around him and the first one slid out swiftly, his aching body landing on the bottom of the cage and he gripped the fingertips of the remaining hand just before it slid out too.  
    'Please, please Greenie, you can't do this. Don't put me in here! Please! What did I do wrong?' the huge fingers paused and he could see through the bars that Greenie's eyes were red and wet before his long hair dropped down to cover them up. Greenie inhaled a sharp breath and held it as his fingers pinched together and shoved the small clawed hand away, the other bound hand laughably easy to shove, it was basically a useless stump when it's wrapped up. Once the Drauglin was standing on his own, the other hand retreated swiftly and the cage was sealed shut by Bear, faster then he thought giants could move. Some rumblings came from overhead but he paid it no attention at all. Greenie took a step back from the cage and then turned swiftly to leave the room, rumbling something as he left. A loud slam was heard and the others stood around, staring at him in the cage, or glancing to where Greenie went.  
    'No...' he whined and collapsed where he stood. All the pent up energy left him like a heavy exhale. He's never going to get out of this cage. He knows it. If even his own adopted kids turned on him, what hope does he have? Back then, they seemed to love him, trust him. Yeah, at first he saw them as annoying and potentially poisonous, dangerous because they were so strange and unknown, but, once he stopped and really paid attention to them, they just seemed lost, lonely, needing protection. He was willing to give them protection and kindness, freely, especially since it seemed as if they were helpless without him. He even tried to save Bear and Cloud over there from the black metal monster. Was that a mistake? To try to help?  
    He felt the cage being moved and saw the whole world shift around as Bear carried the cage. Cloud was talking to Tanner and Bear followed Red into a different area of the huge square tree nest. He and the cage were set down on a massive plateau that was held up by four trees that didn't have any limbs or branches. Everything here was just so strange. This is their world apparently. He was just intruding on it, just a small thing they had to deal with. Why did they even bother bringing him here? Just to trap him in a cage?  
    Bear went away, leaving Red leaning down over his cage. He mustered up a growl at the dark giant and that growl intensified when he saw Bear coming back over. In his two huge hands were things that were round and tall, the door to his cage was opened and Red's hands blocked his exit when he started to stand up. A noise was uttered overhead that was the universal sound of, 'Don't even think about it.' So he sat back down again. Suspecting the world of new hurt he'd be in if he disobeyed.  
    Red's hands dropped just long enough for Bear's hands to enter the cage with him, carrying the two things. He backed up to a corner when he saw them approach, wanting nothing more to do with giant hands ever again. Bear's hands put the two round things with flat bottoms down. One of them smelled like a stream water and the other like meat. His eyes were peeled towards the hands and the opening though. Those were the things most pertinent to his situation. One hand hovered in the air in front of him, close enough if he chose to, he could have bitten it, but the Drauglin uttered a quiet warning growl and the hand retreated along with the other one. The door was closed again and Bear walked away towards the same area that Greenie disappeared to. Cloud and Tanner were sitting on something that looked soft and long and perfectly fit for their sizes and bodies to sit on. Where they found it was anyone's guess. They talked to each other, occasionally glancing in his direction. Tanner was actually crying. Cloud seemed to be consoling him. What for? None of them even tried helping him out. What's he got to be sad about? If he wanted to, Tanner could have done something. Anything. Distract Red when they were all outside so he could escape, or Bear, or Greenie, or kept Cloud from bringing the cage over.  
    'Traitor.' he growled at Tanner and saw him flinch across the way. Cloud shot a dirty look at the cage and he hissed right back. 'Yeah, fuck you, I'm talking to him, Cloud, not you. So you can just shut the fuck up.' his wings flared a little when Tanner's eyes flickered over to his cage. 'Tanner, don't you ever talk to me again. I will never forgive either of you for this.'  
    Tanner hid his head into Cloud's chest, trying very hard to keep his sobs silent. The Drauglin's chest felt tight but he knew it needed to be said. His only defenses now were his words. And he used them. His own adopted kids were the enemy now.  
    Red settled down next to his cage and sighed heavily as if it was the Drauglin's fault he was a burden on the giants now. 'Fuck you too, Red.' he spat out and turned his head, roaring over his shoulder to the world in general, 'And tell Bear he can go to hell for torturing me!'  
    Tanner flinched again and kept on listening to Cloud. Tanner's sobs were still heard over the Drauglin's huffs and pathetic growls. Screw the world. Screw everything. Damn giants. Damn black metal monsters, damn it all. A few minutes passed and his hatred dulled down to silent loathing, which turned to self loathing soon after. 'I'm done. I give up.' he sighed and laid down to curl up in a ball, turned away from everyone. He nearly whispered, 'Just kill me,' with his wings wrapped tight around himself to hide from this strange world and the cruel beings that inhabit it.  
      
    “So he thinks my name is 'Cloud'?” Balthazar said quietly, trying very hard to distract Cassie from how devastated he feels now.  
    Castiel nodded weakly. “It's probably because of your white shirt. He called Bobby, 'Bear'... no idea why. And Rufus is apparently 'Red'.” Another tear slid down his cheek and he brushed it away. “I'm guessing that he had started calling me; Tanner, and Sam; Greenie solely due to what we looked like. What we were wearing.”  
    “Makes sense, he's gotta call us something to distinguish us from one another.”  
    A little nod was his answer. Clearly Cassie was disinterested in that train of thought and more focused on the fact that Dean thinks that he's being tortured again. And that his own family and friends are his enemies. From the dragon's point of view, that's probably obvious. “He kept on begging us... to let him go. Asking us why he's being hurt, what he did wrong. And I jus... I just can't...” Castiel leaned forward and Balth pressed him closer in a much tighter hug as his best friend sobbed into his shirt.  
    Balth consoled him as best he could. It was a shitty situation all around, and even making a light joke about how his new name should be Rain Cloud with as wet as Cas is making his shirt, didn't get more then a grim smile for a split second. “Look, the dragon is temporary. Dean would know that this is just precautions being taken. That we are only wanting to help. If we let him go, give in, he will disappear into the woods and we will never see him again.”  
    “It's what he wants.”  
    “No, it's what the dragon wants, not Dean. And Dean is the only one I really care about right now.”  
    “You didn't hear him Balth, the pain, betrayal. He said that he adopted Sam and I back in the woods, called us his kids. How would you feel if your kids betrayed you? Hurt you?”  
    “We weren't the ones that hurt him.”  
    “He doesn't know that!” Cas practically shouted but Balth just pulled him in again for another hug. Rufus was keeping watch over the dragon at the moment while Bobby was heard talking to Sam. Probably about the same things he and Cassie were talking about.  
    “Once things calm down, we can try and have a conversation with him. At least you two can still understand him. We just have to teach him how to understand us now. Communicate. Tell him that it's in his best interest to stay here with us.”  
    “You have no idea... the level of betrayal and hurt he's feeling right now.” Cas muttered. “I can feel it as if it's my own heart breaking.” Cas gestured to the room Sam fled to, “Even Sam felt it, and he can only feel the strongest emotions. He's not as in tune to Dean as I am... to the dragon.” He corrected himself. That is not Dean at the moment. How he longed to just be able to talk to Dean, console him, and above all, FREE him. “I promised Dean he would never see the inside of a cage again, and look at what we did.” Cas looked over to the cage again.  
    The sound of something heavy smashing against the wall made them both jerk upright in their seats. Muffled shouting. Sam burst out of the room with Bobby hobbling after him.  
    “No! This is bullshit! He's not dangerous! He's just scared and pissed and I don't want to be the bad guy!” Sam shouted, pointing a finger at the cage before facing it head on. “He's not an animal!” He stomped closer to the cage, fists clenched as tight as his jaw. “This is going to stop right now.”  
    The dragon jolted upright at the sudden burst of activity and backed up from the commotion. Fearful eyes darting from one person to the other. Landing on the hulking mass of hunter standing there, looking for all the world as a man itching for a fight. Cas felt a stab of terror hit him a second later. He clutched his chest and saw Sam stagger as well. The dragon made a few whimpering sounds, Cas knew that he was afraid of being punished, but that the dragon didn't know what for. That escalated the fear and cries. A litany of apologies spilled from the little guy's mouth as he pressed himself up against the far side of the cage, away from everyone.  
    'I'm sorry, sorry I'm so sorry! I wont do it again! SorrysorryPlease don't hurt me. Please, I'm sorry. I'll shut up. I'll be good. Promise. You don't have to kill me yet. I'll do whatever you want.' the dragon nodded fearfully, trying to win them over even as his body pressed so close to the bars of the cage that his injuries were probably bleeding again.  
    Tears welled in everyone's eyes at the whimpering thing. Clearly expecting to die for just raising his voice earlier. Believing that they are capable of inflicting massive harm on him for stupid reasons. Sam's hand caught one of the kitchen chairs to steady himself. The fear was palpable and thick in the room, coming from the cage in sickening waves.  
    “Hey hey hey, it's ok, ok.” Sam managed to croak out. One hand lifting in a placating manner but that just made the dragon flinch further into a corner. Eyes screwing shut tight and the apologies continuing on as if that's how the dragon breathed now. “Ok... it's ok now. Leaving you alone.” Sam murmured, backing up. His hands were now swung behind himself as he backed up, running into Bobby standing behind him, and straightening back up to his 6 foot 4 height. He couldn't help towering over everyone all the time. Right now, the dragon only sees a huge monster that was just ready to attack.  
    Bobby didn't need a translation to know exactly what was going on and just placed a hand up onto Sam's shoulder. Rubbing it in small circles of reassurance. “He'll be fine. It's just been a busy day.” he ignored Sam's scoff and led him to the living room. A jerk of his head signaled Rufus to join them and let the little dragon have a moment to calm down. No rational conversation could be had when emotions were running high. Nothing but whimpering noises were coming from the cage, mixed in with stressed panting and the sounds of the wings vibrating against the bars from all of the shivering.  
    After the men settled down in their seats, they were all more or less looking absently at the spot where the coffee table used to be. Now there was an overturned cardboard box as a replacement. It was still daylight out, so they had the rest of the day to figure out what to do. All too often, sleep and rest were their go-to ways of dealing with stress. But sleeping at 3 pm just to avoid this problem was cowardly. They could still hear the dragon scuffling around in the humane animal trap, and some mewls heard, but it seemed to be breathing more normally now.  
    “Ok, from the top. What did he say?” Rufus asked. He was the only one not privy to the explanations from Castiel and Sam for what the dragon was shouting.  
    Sam spoke up first, eyes wandering towards the kitchen table where they'd left the dragon. “Well, uh, at first, he was scared and just wanted to be let loose outside. Then he was convinced we were going to eat him and after the shock wore off, he got really pissed about that.” Sam huffed a quick laugh at that but sobered up. He'd probably do the same thing. Five stages of death. The dragon believed it was going to die so it was going through some of the stages. Bartering, anger, sadness, and even a moment of acceptance. But not yet denial. Maybe that was going to happen later. Maybe not at all. Or it already went through denial that this is happening to him at all. From the dragon's point of view, it made sense that this would seem like a dream or something. More like a nightmare. Sam stumbled over his words here and there so Castiel helped fill in the holes.  
    Balth discreetly  rubbed his own eyes when Cas went into great detail the level of betrayal he felt from the dragon for being held captive. Not just what he said, but the feelings attached to them. Balth never fully understood what that meant to be that bonded with Dean that they can tell what the others emotions are in that second, until Cas and Sam started acting it out subconsciously. The dragon was still influencing them now. Balth doubted that the dragon even knew what it was doing to them.  
    It was silently agreed that the next course of action be to tell the dragon what's really going on. And especially how to get it on their side. Informing it that he's not the only personality in that body could wait for now. That conversation could go into the night. And afterward when the timing was right, to get that healing salve on his hand and foot. Hoping that it would heal as fast as the wings did with it coated on there. They'd have to re-wrap the appendages again though, and no one wanted a repeat of the freak out the dragon did the first time they put the bandages on.  
    Rufus got up from his seat, “I get it, the little guy doesn't understand that we aren't giants, and that he's the one that shrunk. So I propose we show him. Might solve a few of the problems.” He left the cabin and returned with a few things and when he started to walk towards the dragon, everyone got up from their seats and followed after. He shrugged their worry off. Babying the thing isn't going to further this along. “Hey there,” he started, voice calm and quiet. He sat down in one of the seats to be more eye to eye with the thing. The others hung back to give it some room. “This is a pine cone. Piiine cooonne.” he said slowly and placed the green pine cone on the table close to the dragon. It looked at it blankly then up at Rufus, confusion and fear still there. “And this is a twig.” he announced and placed the twig on the table next to the pine cone. After a few seconds of utter stillness he noticed the tiny nose twitching on it, trying to smell the items put before him, so Rufus lifted up the stick and stuck it through the bars. The reaction was immediate as the dragon scurried back as if he was going to be struck by it. Rufus dropped it half in and half out of the cage and pulled back quickly. Ok, so maybe he'd need to put the kid gloves back on. The little trilling chirp heard from the dragon intrigued him and he looked up to Sam.  
    “He wants to know if you think he eats branches.” Sam shrugged and then heard a chirp. “He doesn't.”  
    Rufus grinned widely and nodded back. “Ok, we knew that already, but that's alright. We are communicating.” his hand went from the cage to himself.  
    Cas was torn between mentioning that Dean felt as though Rufus was going to strike him with the stick first. That feeling left when Rufus let it go and backed up, replaced with confusion when the stick went untouched.  
    “I think he's going to dominate the conversation.” Bobby noted. “Nice little role reversal, all this time before he learned sign language and the communication spell, we were the ones talking and he was the one nodding or shaking his head. Pantomiming.” Bobby also noted that at least the dragon seemed to feel better about being understood this time around as opposed to last time where neither party were able to get their words or ideas across.  
    After another beat, the dragon seemed to be waiting for something else to happen, fidgeting in place a little, like an echo of what Dean does when he's nervous. There was a few rumbles and trills and a finger pointed from his good hand before it was brought back down for balance. He seemed to remember that he only has two good limbs again and rested on his good side, wincing a little. The trilling chirps resumed and he nodded nervously again.  
    “So? What did he say?” Rufus asked.  
    “Man this is so weird,” Sam said quietly, “Sorry, it's just, he sounds like Dean but the tone is off, like, its his twin or something.”  
    “He's done nothing but his dragon speech.. how is it able to translate to 'tone'?” Rufus asked.  
    “That's what makes it weird.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Look, until you do the spell, you're jus gonna have to trust me that it's weird hearing Dean's voice without Dean here.” he crossed his arms, feeling a tickle of irritation and wondering if it's from the dragon being ignored or being talked about. Maybe it's sensing that his words weren't translated yet. Sam looked it right in the eyes and answered, verbally as well as pantomiming. “We wont hurt you.” he said slowly as he turned and waited a beat before pretended to hit Cas but swept his hands down into an 'x' looking at the dragon – showing that this was meant for his eyes and not him beating up on Cas for no reason. Sam then rubbed Cas's shoulder and grinned. “No hurt.” he repeated and pulled Cas in for a light hug and gestured to the dragon again who chirped at them.  
    “No, we weren't the ones that hurt you before.” He said and sighed a little with his head down, thinking how to pantomime it.  
    Cas then pointed at the dragon's hand, then his own, then the dragon's foot and his own. Then gestured to the others and himself, before making the 'x' motion again, shaking his head at the same time to show that it didn't happen by their hands. He grinned widely when the dragon thought that over and nodded back, trilling some more. “Uh.. how do we explain to him that he hurt himself?”  
    Bobby frowned and then pointed to the dragon then his hand and foot and back to the dragon.  
    “Yeahh, he doesn't get it.” Sam said even though the dragon said nothing at all. “Oh!” Inspiration hit and he got some paper and a pencil, then drew out the crudest image of what happened and showed it to the dragon.  
    “Wow, Picasso, that's uh, that's going right up on the fridge.” Balth slow clapped, “Is that a horsey?”  
    “Shut up.” Sam snapped. Bobby shoved the two aside and flipped the paper over and drew a pretty good representation of a tiny dragon and drone, tearing it in two and somehow informed the dragon of the events that way. Using the pictures as props, he made the paper dragon 'grab' the drone and land with it on top. Bobby shrugged and pointed to himself and the others, the dragon's hand and foot again and made the same 'x' swoop that was all the rage.  
    Realization clearly dawned on the dragon and he chirped growled at them.  
    “Ok, he gets it now. He doesn't know what the drone is but he knows that we weren't the ones that injured him.” Another moment passed with the small dragon getting a little more relaxed around them all. “So what should we try and tell him next?” The others shrugged. “Helpful.” Sam sighed.  
    The dragon looked up at the others to make sure they weren't going to attack again or do anything unexpected, and nosed at the bandages. He bit onto the edge of the one around his hand and tugged a little at it. It was firmly stuck to it. He then clamped his jaws lightly around his wrist, letting go, and frowning. 'How the hell can I stop the bleeding after I get my hand off?' he mumbled to himself. Biting his wrist again experimentally. Tongue laving up the scales to add some liquid fire to the area first. It's not as potent as his spray, but still flammable enough. 'Just gonna have to figure out how to start the fire without my teeth...' he thought and licked his arm and wrist repeatedly, getting it ready for when the other's have their backs turned. As nice as it is to have this stilted chat, he still doesn't trust them and the feel of these strange things around his appendages... it just needs to go. 'I just hope I have enough flame to finish sealing the wound before I pass out from the pain.' he murmured and then went back to licking his wrist and arm.  
    Sam and Cas were shocked. “Wh- wh-what?” Sam stuttered.  
    “What's he saying? God's sake, Sam some of us want to know!” Bobby punched Sam's shoulder.  
    “He's saying he's going to gnaw his hand off just to get the bandage off of himself! He is already planning on cauterizing the stump!” Sam pointed at how the dragon was very meticulous with his licks. All doubt about what his plan was was thrown out the window when he then laid on his side to reach his bound hind leg. Licking it next after tugging on the bandage and frowning. “Dude. We gotta get the bandages off of him right now or else he's going to bite his own limbs off!”  
    Cas rushed to the cage, hands on the top and side and peering in at the startled dragon. “Don't do it, Dean! It's ok, they aren't going to hurt you. They're wrapping up your wounds! Not trying to do anything harmful.” he insisted. “They are there to help!”  
    The dragon's eyes went comically wide with how close Tanner got to him all of the sudden. He stopped licking his exposed ankle and cowered down. 'Alright! Tanner! What are you doing? You're scaring the shit out of me!' he trilled nervously. He hobbled over to the far side of his cage away from the hands curling in through the bars. 'I didn't do anything wrong, so I don't know why you're freaking out. Want me to just sit here and not move anymore?' he suggested heart slowing back down a little. 'Fine. I wont move.' and laid down against the bars on the opposite side. 'I'll just take them off later if that'll make you happy.' he mumbled quietly and remained laying down, shuffling his wings into a more relaxed position.  
    Now all of the giants were growling and rumbling things at him, the very air shook and he was getting seriously unnerved by it all. 'I’m not even moving right now!' he growled right back and then pursed his lips shut. After thinking about it, he said quietly, 'You don't want me talking either? Fine. I can do that too. No talking, no moving, no eating, drinking, nothing. I'll just sit here.' he nodded to himself and closed his eyes, resting his head on his uninjured hind leg as he curled into himself.  
    More rumbling sounds overhead, but he refused to look up. The air around him was getting thick with worry and something bumped into his cage, jostling him a little unexpectedly and his injuries made themselves known again. He bit back another cry of pain as he curled in the other way, tucking his bound foot and hand closer to his head. He resumed his licking to make sure that there was a thick layer of spit to ignite once he figures out how to get the fire lit.  
    He heard a bunch of movement around to his right and ignored it. They were going to do whatever giant monsters do whether or not he says or does anything. Maybe once he's calm and quiet that will get them to back off. Then there was a pause in the activity, his side fan perked over to listen to the sounds of several of them breathing, the rapid hearts racing and the scent of anticipation and worry spiking his own apprehension. His cage was then moving, he was being turned around without having to lift a claw. Then the movement stopped and he sighed, frustrated that they insist on messing with him. Probably just teasing him like he used to tease mice before letting them go again.  
    Someone cleared their throat and he looked up just to see what was going on. Curiosity getting the better of him. Greenie and Tanner were standing side by side and facing him. Tanner had something red on his hand and started to wail in pain. He sat up straighter and looked up at Tanner, what the hell hurt him? He didn't hear any kind of fight going on. Some movement but not enough to cause injury. Greenie lifted up a white thing that was as long as his arms stretched out. Tanner then held out his red hand to Greenie who started to wrap the white thing around his hand. Tanner stopped crying out and started to smile at Greenie as he kept on wrapping the hand up. In just a few seconds, Greenie was done and Tanner showed off his white hand, the coverings looked like the blasted thing that was on his own hand.  
    He looked at it and hobbled closer to the cage wall separating him from the kids. 'What's going on? You're hurt? Who hurt you, Tanner?' he demanded. Which one of them hurt his kid. He squinted angrily at Greenie next for making Tanner's hand useless. 'Greenie! What the hell did you do that for? Now your brother's gonna have to take his hand off!'  
    Both of them shook their heads at him. Greenie faced Tanner again and Tanner held out his bound hand towards him. Then, Greenie started to use his hands to rub Tanner's as he slowly unwound the white thing. 'Huh.' Greenie removed it from Tanner's hand and Tanner held out his hand towards the Drauglin. It was free of injury, the white thing had some red on it though, smelled like some kind of plant. Greenie tossed the white thing aside and pat Tanner on the back good naturedly.  
    The Drauglin then looked to his own hand and thrust it forward towards his kids. 'If you know how to get this damned thing off, then do it! Please!' he trilled and hobbled closer to the cage wall, after a few attempts, he managed to stick the thick bundle out of the bars towards Greenie. Greenie frowned at him and shook his head. 'Why not? You did it to Tanner and now he's all better! You can get this thing off and I'll be fine again. I don't know what the hell this thing is, but I guess, thanks for putting it on?' he turned to Bear and nodded, grinning. Coming to the conclusion that Bear was helping him out afterall. 'Well? Here it is. I'm ready when you are.' He chirped and wiggled his bound hand at them.  
    The giants grumbled at each other and half of them shrugged. Tanner shook his head and frowned. He made a motion with his hands as if he was pushing something away. 'You want me to go?' a shake of the head. 'You want... yourself to go?' another shake. 'I don't know what you're trying to say.' he huffed.  
    Tanner retrieved the white thing again and wrapped his hand back up in it again and then sat down on one of the shorter things at the plateau his cage was resting on. Tanner's support thing had a wall built into one side that Tanner was leaning against. His white hand resting on the plateau next to his cage. A solid few minutes passed and Tanner yawned pointedly. Realization dawned on him, 'It can come off but not yet?' Tanner sat upright quickly and nodded enthusiastically along with Greenie. 'And it's because it takes time to heal?' more nods, now they're getting somewhere. 'Ok. So, that was you pretending to be hurt, you aren't actually all better because of the white thing.' Nod. 'The white thing is just there to protect my wound.' he mumbled, now thinking about how much better he already feels, not having to worry about things getting inside of the wound, and of the lack of blood flow from his hand and foot. It would have been so much better if he could cauterize the wounds with his special fire, but they must know about his missing teeth and this is the best they could do for him.  
    They rumbled around him, talking about something over his head. He didn't pay it much attention, now wrapped up in thinking about the wrappings. He tugged at the part that was tucking under the top layer and it started to unravel. 'Oh, ok, so I can take this off of myself if I really wanted, I just didn't know how to do it before.' he mumbled to himself, figure this out. 'Ok, I get it, but why did you put me in a cage? Do I need to be in here to heal from the attack?'  
    Greenie bobbled his head a little, rumbling to the others. Clearly they were debating something. 'Because you can let me go now. I wont mess with the white thing until I’m healed. Got the message.' he sat a little more upright and grinned a little. The others looked like they were still debating. A sinking feeling settled behind his ribs. 'There's a different reason you're keeping me in here.'  
    A sad nod from Tanner.  
    'I don't even know what questions I can ask to figure out why.' he frowned and got several frowns right back. 'I guess you weren't ever planning on letting me go.' he nodded at his own question, ignoring the mix of emotions coming at him. He went to the thing holding some meat and ate a little. Puzzled why it tasted like deer but he's never heard of any deer that big. 'Where do you guys keep finding these big things?' he wondered to himself.  
    Greenie pointed at him when he was done eating a third of the meat, his hairy kid stretched his hands out wide and pointed at him again, switching to lifting up his hand as high as it would go, and then, brought his hand down and other hand closer to roughly the same size he is now, pointing again at him. Greenie repeated the movements a couple of times. Starting off stretched out then coming in together. 'Is that supposed to be something getting smaller?' more nods. Greenie pointed at the Drauglin again. 'Wait... ME?!' another shrug and nod. 'You're fucking kidding me. I got smaller? This isn't some strange land you brought me to?'  
    Greenie lifted up the huge pine cone again and wiggled it in front of his face. His hand swooped around the square tree nest and things started to sink in. They were keeping him tied up and captive because he wanted to escape. To be loose. And if he really is the tiny one now, that would be disastrous. He thought back to how small Tanner and Greenie were, and now how that much smaller he was. His head felt dizzy. Fucking shit! 'You can get me back though right? Back to my normal size?' a hesitant nod. 'But not right now. Of course. Perfect.' he ground out. 'Can you at least let me out of this cage?'  
    Greenie and Tanner rumbled something to Bear, Red and then Cloud. They all looked around the tree nest as if they were looking for something. All of them started at the walls and moved around the place, Cloud and Red went somewhere beyond the walls he could see and both eventually coming back and shaking their heads. Why they thought they could find the answers over there was baffling. Tanner came up to his cage and hesitated with his hand on one side of it. The Drauglin paced a little in front of it. This was the wall that opens up. 'Gonna let me out?' he chirped excitedly. Tanner firmed his jaw and something metal clanked and then suddenly the wall opened up. He now had an unobstructed view of the room beyond and started to hobble towards it. He stepped over the ridge of the cage and onto the wooden plateau beyond. He looked back into the cage and reached in briefly to snag the rest of the meat and dragged it out with him. That earned a chuckle from Tanner and Red. Red said something to the others and they relaxed a little. Now that the Drauglin was out, he had no idea what to do.  
    His wings spread and he flapped them experimentally. They inhaled sharply and he bet if he flew now they'd get freaked. Fuck it. He launched himself off of the plateau and headed towards that huge soft looking thing that Cloud was sitting on. The Drauglin landed on the back of it, stumbling a little because of his pegleg foot and bound hand. His balance was off a little from the added weight on that side as well as the fact that he couldn't grip the ground with those limbs either. His right hand flexed into the soft sitter, and sunk his good claws into the thin membrane of it. He sniffed at it and sneered at the numerous scents coming from it. It was old, smelled like dead but dried plants and sheep. An overall scent was everywhere, something very strong that came from those tall clear things with the small openings at the tops, and from the giants themselves. Wood smoke. Everything else was just too odd to identify.  
    It felt good to be somewhat free again. He hated that cage with a burning fiery passion. Even though the cage didn't actually hurt him, it was the feelings attached to the idea of it. It was built to keep things separate. Away. Making them feel alone and lonely. He hoped that was the last he'd be inside a cage.  
    Sam faced the couch and the dragon perched on the back of it. The little guy was sniffing the air and clearly trying to identify things but coming up short. Balth looked a little nervous having the animal so close. Sam spoke up, “So what are we going to do with him now? I imagine... that we are going to have to watch him non-stop so he doesn't get into trouble.”  
    “I'll watch him.” Castiel volunteered. “I let him out, I will take responsibility.”  
    Balth raised his hand as well. “The little rascal will need more then one set of eyes on him. I'm in. Gonna teach him a few tricks while we're at it.” Balth grinned and twisted in his seat to place a finger to the dragon's nose. “Boop.”  
    The dragon snorted at him and tried to bite at the huge offending digit. He got a quick rap on his nose for his troubles. The dragon growled louder and rasped something out at him.  
    Castiel spoke up for him, “He says, do that again and you will never find it again.” More growls and a snicker, “Oh, and no amount of white strips will save you.” Cas informed.  
    “Duly noted.” Balth stated all business like and poked the dragon's nose again. The dragon took flight and immediately attacked Balthazar's head, wings slamming into the sides of it and his good clawed hand scratching up his scalp. Castiel would have come to his aide sooner, but figured that Balth had it coming and that the dragon needed to prove he was still tough even if he is little.     Cas wrapped his hands around the dragon just as Balth was about to make a break for it. The Drauglin squirmed in his gentle grip and hissed some choice words at him. “No, I will not let you go, you attacked my friend. Violence doesn't solve everything.” he intoned and after stroking the dragon's head, neck and down to his body a few times, he rubbed a knuckle underneath the small jaw until he heard the grumble morph into a purr. Then, the dragon started to relax a little further and settled down in his hands. Cas didn't bother hiding the grin as the others talked about what to do if the dragon did decide to escape in the middle of the night.  
    Once a rough plan was formed of taking shifts watching him, they tried to figure out a way to inform the dragon of what's going on and why they had to shrink him. Trying to relate to something that's only fit to live in the woods is difficult, trying to speak to the thing and be understood was even harder. The dragon didn't understand anything that was being said, and only a little of what was being pantomimed. They longed for the days of long conversations via sign language spelling. They'd need months of lessons to get abstract ideas across, and months more to perfect it. And they only had a few weeks before the solstice.  
    So now that everything and everyone is sufficiently cooled off and relaxed, they tried to figure out a way to get the real Dean to captain the boat. Mirrors were brought in, heartfelt stories were shared, music was played and all the while, the dragon watched, listened and completely failed to get what the hell they were doing. The night wore on, and the frustration was just too much.  
    'I give up, kids. I give. Enough. You can flail your arms at me again later.' he sighed. 'Greenie, Tanner, it's time to eat.' The Drauglin thought about it for a second, there's no way he could provide meals for them at the moment, and come to think of it, he still doesn't know what they eat exactly. 'Well, I’m gonna eat, you guys can do whatever you want. Just make sure you're in bed before the moon comes up.'  
    “I'm not even wearing green anymore.” Sam chuckled, amused that the little dragon still talks to them as if they are his kids, not really concerned with what 'Cloud, Red, and Bear' are going to do. The dragon would have made a good father. Sam frowned a little at that. They'd never know for sure, if all goes to plan, the dragon will cease to exist. Sam straightened out his brown flannel shirt to give his hands something to do.  
    “Your coat is green, you were wearing it when he first saw us, and again today.” Cas pointed out. “He still thinks we are his kids. God, how wrong he is.” Cas exhaled a little sadly at that.  
    The dragon was now flying over to the table which he kept on referring to as a plateau, and lifted up his sizable chunk of meat from it. Carrying it with him back to the couch and offering some to Cas before being declined. He licked his lips and dug in, eating the rest of it with some really r-rated sounds. Apparently tastes become more intense at that size too. With the meal soon finished, his little dragon stomach was distended pleasantly.  
    Castiel lightly patted the dragon's back to get his attention, holding out his hand and placing it over his heart he repeated his nickname that Dean had given him. It just cocked his head at him before clicking his tongue and hissing. Figuring it was close enough he grinned and nodded. He then held his hand carefully in front of the dragon and placed two fingers on the tiny chest and quirked an eyebrow.  
    'My name?' he trilled. 'I uh, I don't think I have one. But I told you back in the woods, you can call me Daddy.' the dragon sounded very proud of that name. 'I’ll always look out for you two, er, 5, I guess...' the dragon gulped.  
    Cas shook his head, frowned and made the same gesture again towards the dragon. 'You want me to have a name?' a grin. 'I don't know... I'm brown, tan, and spotted. Spot?'  
    From across the room, Sam did a spit take. “Cas, you call him spot I'm kicking your ass out. Dean's boyfriend or no.”  
    “Rest assured, Sam. No one is calling him a pet's name again.” he stated firmly and looked back down to the confused dragon, shaking his head and making the 'x' symbol with his index fingers.  
    'Ok, not any of those...' he heard an echo of some titles from the back of his mind pipe up, 'I have freckles and spikes and you don't, that's one good way to distinguish myself from you guys. Spike? Freckles?' he just about jumped out of his skin at that harsh reaction from Tanner. Even Greenie who was in the other room roared something sharply at him. He flinched back from the sound and anger. 'I don't know! You think of something. Everything I suggest is wrong.' he pouted and curled in on himself. Feelings of depression getting him down again.  
    Cas stroked his neck and back again. “Maybe something similar to dragon and your uh, altarnate personalities name, Dean.” Castiel suggested, seeking out but not finding the glint in the eye of recognition of hearing his real name. Dragon did not care for the name Dean. “How about.. Dan?” he then repeated the word over and over again, then holding his hand to himself, saying “Cas.” Then to the dragon, “Dan.”  
    The Drauglin had some trouble with it, the name came out a little skewed in translation. 'Dane. Ok, you wanna call me Dane. Whatever.' The Drauglin mumbled. A few more repetitions of the name from Tanner and the others made it sound kinda nice. He could live with it. He could start to even pick it out of some rumblings the giants did. Figuring out that they were talking about him. He could tell from the levity of the banter that it wasn't bad at all, and felt a little nice knowing that they were ok with him. If he could keep playing by their rules, then he'd stay out of the cage.  
    Dane grinned to himself. He finally had a name, one that his kids seemed to like well enough to use, and settled down on the soft surface of the long sitting log. He felt something equally soft and wide being wrapped around him. He stiffened and looked about blearily. His body wasn't injured, why was it being wrapped up? He glanced over and saw that Tanner was also wrapping himself up in a similar sheet but big enough for his size. 'Oh, it's to keep warm.' Tanner carefully and slowly wrapped his gentle hands around Dane and lifted him up from his resting spot from the back of the sitting log, just long enough to lay down on the sitting thing. Tanner then gently placed Dane onto his chest and covered himself up again a little more snugly. Cloud added more short tree limbs to the fire and it came back to life again. The others murmured things to Tanner and Dane ignored them. His bed was his own adopted kid, but that's fine by him. Dane never had such a warm nest before and nestled in for the night.  
  
  
  
  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bear to upload! My neighbors probably figured out how to protect their wifi so I am at my Ma's house stealing her internet, :) I just hope I don't run out of battery power... better make this quick. This is also my new travel laptop so it is totally not set up whatsoever, just had to get firefox downloaded - if that's any indication how new this thing is. Still have to get openoffice as well so I can edit better, earlier in-between runs I was using the most basic word program... ungh. Need the internet for everything! downloading usable programs being at the top of the list.  
> technical hiccups aside, coming up with describing things from a 100% dragon pov was very tough. And for some reason my brain wanted me to suffer so I made this as sad as possible. Honestly, it's like I like punishing myself!  
> (behold, I give you a tiny feral dragon! - you screwed up a perfectly good character is what you did! look at it! it has anxiety!)  
> As for the title of this chapter, I've been waiting for AGES to use that line from Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars ever since I figured out what the hell he was saying. There were other titles I could have used but I jus couldn't wait any longer, and it fits, they did MAKE a dragon go into retirement. whether he wanted to or not. 
> 
> so yeah, kudos and comments are love :)


	29. Fight Club Chat Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Dane duke it out for Cas.

Chapter Twenty Nine:  
Fight club chat room  
  
  
      
    Cas was anxious to find out what he could do while he and the dragon were sleeping. If he was going to be transported back to one of Dean's or Dane's dreamscapes or one of his own this time. His mind whirled with possibilities. It actually took a few hours to calm his mind enough to find sleep. One of the tricks he used was to convince himself that there was no need to wake up early or even sleep that night, that there was nothing going on the next day. If he can convince himself that there is no hurry, the odds of finding sleep increase. Looking at the clock all hours of the night is about the worst thing a person can do when they are trying to get to sleep. And if there needs to be a song on repeat in his head, then he puts a different one on the mental turntable, making a soothing instrumental play instead. The current instrumental song his mind is enjoying in the background is, 'Pilgrim Snow' from the 'Wolf's Rain' soundtrack. An anime that Balth had made him watch when he was going through his anime phase. If that one doesn't work, his other one is 'Wakare No Kyoku' from 'Fullmetal Alchemist'. It was a bit longer and more complicated orchestrations so his mind had plenty to focus on and let all the rest of his worries fall aside.  
    However, there was no guarantee that he or Dane would even dream that night. It was really a fluke that it happened with Dean that much in a short amount of time. For a long while, nothing happened. It seemed as though there would be no dreams that night, because he dozed for so long that when he did finally sleep, it felt like he was simply wading, alone, through thick mist. Then there were some indistinct rumbling sounds, like thunder in the distance, all around him and he waited silently for something to happen. Expecting a wide range of things, some place or event, finding himself right next to a ring of busted tree limbs and dried grasses, with a huge, purring, sleek black monster resting next to him, was not one of them.  
    Similar to the first time he dream walked inside Dean's slumbering mind, with his lover's lakeside dock, Castiel was standing off to the side of what could only be considered an occupied dragon's nest. Thankfully, he noticed that the whomever was in control of this dream preferred to see him at his normal height, because given how they went to bed, the dragon could have seen him as a gigantic monster again. And that would not be a good place to start anything. The dream could have effortlessly turned into another nightmare but with him being the tormentor instead of Alistair.  
    Castiel wondered if he was always going to show up in these dreams looking the same every time. How Dean, and now Dane, saw him. And if Castiel was ever going to see himself how he wants. For now, it wasn't worth worrying about too much. He wore this trench coat often enough, it was like a second skin. Still protecting him. Feeling like home, safe and secure inside its embrace. His simple coat was probably helping him out subconsciously in all of these respects. It will keep him centered while the dream world around him shifts and morphs. As kids playing an outdoor game would call, 'Base'.  
    Movement got his attention close by, he could just see past the fallen trees and trampled shrubs that made up the nest, the huge pitch black shape that was sleek and a little lean. He recognized this being as the mother dragon from another of Dean's dreams. But this time, she looked thinner. The reason presented itself when he saw other restless movement at the nest. A much smaller dragon then the mother, but with the same markings as Dean. With a jolt, he realized that this is what Dean looked like as a newborn baby dragon.  
    The tiny dragon looked up at Cas and blinked lazily before snuggling back up close to his mother. The baby acted just like he looked, a fragile infant. No recognition in his eyes beyond the loving glimmer he had especially for his mother.  
     The baby's whole body could probably fit into a bathtub when it's curled up. The egg he'd only just come out of had been shoved off to the side of the nest, still wet with amniotic fluid. The dragon mewled a little and the mother lifted up her long neck and reached over to grab a full deer's body over, and bit it in half. She then nudged it just far enough from the nest to be able to set it on fire but briefly, just enough to make it like a medium steak, before taking it into her mouth and smothering the flames completely. She then went about chewing it up and then spitting the mush out onto a patch of bare earth just outside of the nest.  
    She kept on ignoring Castiel as she nudged her infant to the side of the nest closest to the pre-masticated meat. The baby whined and complained but when it smelled the meat it clumsily waddled over to it and started to eat hungrily. All the while, the mother purred at him and kept an eye out for predators.  
    Through all of her noises and sounds, it seemed as though the baby was translating the speech for Cas's benefit without even knowing it. Dragons must be able to understand their own language from birth. The various sounds the beings make but with the same meanings would be far too complicated to be taught to the offspring. It was a big revelation to Cas and he would have to try and remember it after he'd woken up. The baby's instant translations were more or less word for word what the mother was saying. This is probably a very important first memory, a new mind soaking up every bit of information around itself so that it can adapt to the surroundings faster and seamlessly. Therefore, the baby remembers every detail, and more importantly to Castiel; the meaning behind the mother's growled and cooed words.  
    What Cas learned past the adoration’s she purred to her son, was that the mother's name was actually Cricket. That she would protect him till the end of time from the bipeds that were out to hurt them. And that she was sad he would never get to see the other offspring. Cricket wordlessly implied that they weren't considered to be his siblings, but one of the girls was supposed to be his mate, if they had lived. Now, she promised to raise him first before trying again with two more males and three females as nature intended. Then, their kind would come back and watch over the woods again. Bring a balance to the chaos that it had become. Cricket chuckled and told her son to eat as many deer as he can handle, because they are far too cocky and overpopulated. Whatever happened since her hibernation started, must have been devastating to the forest's predator populations. She noted the lack of wolves and rarity of bears, making all of the herds of prey take over and actually cause the forest damage. Once all of their kind settle, they would bring about order and peace to every corner of wilderness they inhabit. Aging trees needed to be burned for their tough pine cones to open and new plants to emerge in the fertile ash. The forest actually needs fire just as much as it needs a intelligent predators.  
    She then told him about her own fellow offspring, Ness and Phoenix, her old mate Kazz, her mother and the life they lived before she came to live in this forest. The events held great tragedy and loss but also the promise of life when she spoke of how Ness finally got to her waters. Swimming and gliding as easily as Cricket flew through the air. The pride in her eyes spoke volumes. Ness lived because of what Cricket sacrificed. Her health, meals, strength, all worth it to see Ness swimming free and joyfully in the bay. They'd met up again, but not since the hibernation. Castiel had to wipe a few tears when Cricket reluctantly told her boy about what happened the night she lost her three girls. Needing him to know about it because her mother refused to tell her exactly what happened to her own brothers that came before her. And even what really happened to her mate, Kazz.  
    Cricket had to stop for a moment, gather her thoughts again and reassure her son that he would be loved till the end of time. She'd sacrifice everything for him to have a chance. And she even spoke of her deepest regret for not being there for her girls. Knowing that there wasn't much she could do, the nest was already nearly destroyed when she'd turned around after gathering up the biped. She shook her head and then spoke about how she knew that he would grow up to be big and strong. Kind and intelligent. And if he's willing, a leader for the future Drauglins.  
    Through it all, the baby kept on eating, but listening at the same time. The words didn't mean much to him back then, more the fact that his mother was there and loved him so deeply. Some part of him remembered what she said, even after all this time. It was ingrained into his mind, almost like genetic memory to be brought up when needed.  
    The dream suddenly shifted, and Cas found himself taken along for the ride. Once again appearing off to the side as an observer.  
    The young dragon was taking his first steps and flapping his wings. They were barely 4 feet long each, but Cricket kept on encouraging him to flap them as hard as he can. Needing to grow up big and strong. She looked even thinner now, even though there was evidence of several deer and other woodland creatures carcases around. Proof enough for Cas that she was giving her son nearly every scrap of meat that she found. The dragon youth still showed no sign that 'Dean' was present, this was all Dane. Which makes sense, this is Dane's dream world.  
    They probably brought up more of Dean's mind and personality after Sam and Bobby showed up at the nest. They had informed Castiel and Balthazar of what went on, how the toddler dragon started off wary and then escalated to welcoming. For now, Dane was just proud as hell of his simple accomplishment of standing up unassisted. Both wings were up and tucked, no 'training wheels' for balance, and his tail lifted as well, just to make sure that his legs were the only things keeping him upright. After a few wobbling seconds, he grinned proudly, he hadn't fallen over!  
    Dane chirruped at Cricket with his stilted language, 'Go to big rock! I go to you!' and his wings vibrated with excitement as his mother took those few steps away towards a moderate sized boulder that only came up to about half as high as her elbows. Dane fidgeted in place and then lifted up both front feet at the same time and stumbled a little on the landing of his aborted pounce. After pouting for a moment, he thought that his mother didn't like to see him hurt so he shoved it inside and put on his brave face. He shook his head at the clumsiness as if he wasn't ashamed of it, and firmed his little jaw. He carefully lifted up just one hand first and leaned forward, gripping the ground when it was placed back down a foot closer to the big rock, making sure it was stable for the hind leg on the other side to move forward next. Then his other front foot and other leg, he chirped, 'I'm doing it! Look-it Mommie!' and trotted over to her with his knees bowed out a little from his belly. Once he'd figured out which legs to move and when, it was getting easier and easier.  
    Cas could tell that she was about to tell him to bring his hind leg knees in closer when he walked but just shook her head once at herself. The way he walks is so adorable! As long as it gets him to where he's going, there's nothing wrong with the way he does it.  
    'Very good, my sweet child. I'm so proud of you!' She purred and had to hold herself back from going towards him, closing the distance. Cricket nearly leaped to his aide when he tripped up on a tree root but he recovered without falling and grinned wider up at her. 'Good job!'  
    Castiel found his cheek a little wet and wiped away another errant teardrop. It was just so beautiful. Seeing a mother and son together. He knew that he should be taking this time to talk to Dane about current events, it would be easier to get ideas and information across when he's able to manipulate the dream into whatever he wants. Show Dane some of his own memories to explain what's going on. But this was just too damned cute.  
    He debated with himself. This was a rare look into how dragons, err Drauglin's act in the wild. Without human intervention. He was learning so much in this one dream. Dane was grinning up at his mom but looked over to Cas sharply when the trench coated man shuffled his feet.  
    Dane cocked his little head and stumbled closer to Cas. Cricket settled down and smiled at Dane, making sure he was alright before going back to looking out for anything that could harm her little boy, predators or even antlered deer prey. Both would make a good meal if they dared to come anywhere close to him.  
    Cas took a few steps back, already feeling like a jerk for interrupting the moment. He stopped when he felt a tree at his back, stiffening under the curious gaze of the short baby dragon. Even though he was a baby, he could still easily overpower the scientist and kill him if he wished. Cas was not sure how long he'd stay dreaming if it came to that, but did not want to find out.  
    The little baby Drauglin flopped down to a sit with almost no grace at all, and in fact nearly slipping off to his left side before the hind leg caught up to what was going on and splayed out just in time to catch him. The front paws were in front and a little further forward then needed to support his neck and head which were slightly oversized like any babies would be. 'Hi.' Dane chirped, not overly friendly, a bit warily judging by the tilt in his head to keep his mother still in sight.  
    "Hello." Castiel replied back. Dane cocked his head the other way then. Cas wasn't sure if Dane understood him or not.  
    'My mother says bipeds are bad. Are you bad?' his nose dipped forward for a few seconds to sniff him out.  
    "No, I am a friend." Cas replied, smiling. Dane nodded once, firmly and kept on staring up at Cas. The baby only came up to Castiel's navel, about as big as a German Shepard. Overall, the body was filling out a little, very small bumps on the top of his skull where Cas knew impressive horns would eventually grow. The sharp spikes all along his spine were nothing more the black mounds, no bigger then halved chicken eggs.  
    At the same time that Cas was studying Dane, Dane seemed to be doing the same. 'You are tall.' the baby noted and Cas chuckled a little.  
    "No, you will grow up to be the tall one." He then looked over to Cricket and pointed, "Almost as tall as your mother."  
    'Wow.' Dane whispered in awe. He was about to bound up to his mother to tell her the good news but stopped in mid leap, catching himself from falling again. 'Wait. How, how did you know that?'  
    "Because... well." Cas wheedled, not quite ready to tell him about the future. "You look like you are going to be tall." It wasn't entirely a lie, Dane's nose twitched again.  
    'Mother says that if I exercise and eat all my food that I will get big and strong.' Dane stated and then smugly added, 'And, and she says that she's going to make me a little brother, and, and I'm going to be the big brother and that I need to be bigger then I am now. So I can look after him since he's littler.' A wing flapped to steady his body after that exuberant declaration.  
    "Did she now?" Holy hell was this baby adorable! So earnest in his story telling. Getting a simple joy out of informing this stranger about something he just learned.  
    'Uh huh! And then, and then, we are going to grow up, and have mates and make our own little babies. And then, we are going to the island, and then, we are going to see Mother's sister there! And then we are going to life forevers there, all togethers!'  
    Castiel tried so hard not to find the repetition in the baby dragon's speech syrupy sweet and worthy of all the coos. He failed, the grin on his face doubling each time. He felt like he was talking to a normal human child on a sugar high, and settled down on his ankles to be more eye level with Dane. He suspected the baby just needed the smallest of promptings to get him talking. He was right. "An island?"  
    'Yup! It's were all us Drauglin's go when we are old enough. I kinda know where it is. Mother didn't even haveta tell me. I just knowed it.'  
    "You are going there? To see your aunt?"  
    'My what?' Tiny pear shaped head cocking a little at that.  
    "Aunt, erm, it means your mother's sister."  
    'Oh yeah! She tolded me about her, Ness!' Dean sat down as well in front of Cas. 'Ness lives in the water and swims and Mother saved her life and we are going to meet her at the island.' Dane thought about something for a few seconds. 'I don't know if Ness aunt has any kids. But that would be so cool! Maybe she can teach me how to swim? Can I learn how to swim?'  
    "I uh, think you should ask your mother that question."  
    Dane nodded to himself and looked up and over at his mother. 'She's hunting right now.' he stated.  
    Castiel was confused, Cricket was sitting stalk still and looking around. He noticed that her slender side fans were splayed wide though, probably detecting movement in the woods. Sure enough, she stood up sharply and her whole body went tense.  
    Cricket took a few silent steps closer to Dane. He barely had a second to say anything before he was lifted up into her mouth in one swift but gentle motion.  
    'Bye!' he trilled just before he and his mother disappeared into the woods without a trace.  
    Castiel was left there. The sounds of nature silenced by the swift movements,  now slowly started to come to life again. He looked around himself, wondering what he was supposed to do when his dream buddy just left. "I'll just wait here then."  
    Cas had no sense of time, but figured that the pair of dragons weren't coming back anytime soon so he found himself wandering around the woods, and from one blink to the next, he was in more familiar terrain. The wooded area outside of the cabin. He could just make it out a quarter mile away. He figured it was because Dane was no longer providing him with his early forest memories, his own mind had to bring this up. It could have been any forest he'd visited, but it seemed only natural for it to be the ones that are right outside of the cabin in the waking world. It being forefront in his thoughts and mind's eye.  
    He heard movement in the woods and saw a brown figure dash about, just on the outskirts of his periphery. "Dean?" Cas called out. A twig snapped to his left and he turned swiftly to see it sail through the air and land a few feet away from his position. "Dean? If that's you, you can come out now." he said, a little nervously. All this time spent with a dangerous monster and he still found himself quaking in his shoes at the small taunts. “Hello?”  
    A low rumble was his answer and a small rock was flung next, coming from his right side. He turned to see it land and had the wind knocked out of him by a hulking mass of scales and muscles from behind. Castiel and his attacker tumbled along the ground, leveling a few small plants and a sapling before coming to a stop. The thing that tackled him at least made sure that the small human didn't feel any of the great muscled weight on his body. He could have easily been crushed with one careless move. Their momentum came to a stop and Castiel's head refused to stop spinning. He only had a second to wonder how the hell he could get dizzy in a dream. Cas punched at the limb that was wound tightly around his midsection, keeping him pinned to the scaled chest behind him.  
    "Dean! Let go!"  
    'Who the hell is Dean?'  
    "Dane then. Let go of me!" Cas grumbled, squirming in the grip. He stilled when he saw that the arms wrapped around him were smaller then Dean's usual bulk. Dane got to three feet and dropped Castiel onto the ground, face first. He then stepped over him and circled around until his tail and wings could smugly stretch out a little.  
    Cas finally got to his hands and knees then pushed himself up to sit. He was about to curtly address the dragon when it got stuck in his throat. Dane was now about 8 feet tall and looking like a prepubescent lanky limbed kid. When Dane sat, his knees were splayed out from his body in a relaxed way, like slouching.  
    'So, Tanner, how you been doing?' Dane chirped.  
    "It's Castiel, or Cas.” he corrected, dusting off his long tan trench coat now that he's on his own two feet. “Wait, when you were a kid you didn't know me as Tanner. In fact you didn't know me at all."  
    Dane just cocked his head at him. Thinking it over. 'Whatever. You still didn't answer my question, Cas.'  
    "I'm fine, Dane, how are you?"  
    'Dude! I'm doing awesome. I just flew today! Only a few feet off the ground but it was totally awesome.'  
    "Did you now?" Cas resumed using the kind of simple sentences to figure out how much Dane had changed mentally. Keeping it light and easy as possible. He only had a limited experience with young teens, knowing from his own experience when he was that age how cruel and unpredictable their attitudes could be. “That's great, Dane.” a second to think about the fact that 'Great dane's' were large lanky light brown dogs and how much Dane resembled the Drauglin version of one at the moment.  
    'Yup!' Dane straightened up a little and then said, 'Wait, I know what you're saying. How? How do I know that?'  
    "I believe it's because we are... we are dreaming right now."  
    'Nuh uh. No way.' Dane shook his head, squinting suspiciously at the shorter biped. 'Get outta town, Tanner.'  
    Cas chuckled at how much like a young teenager he sounded. Ignoring the fact that Dane kept on with that name for him, Dean gave him the name 'Cas', why isn't Dane allowed to give him his own name? Castiel continued, "It's true. This is a shared dream."  
    Dane looked up and all around the two of them, like he'd be able to see the edges of this world. 'So we are dreaming. Sooo, we can do whatever we want?'  
    "Yes, I suppose."  
    'Awesome.' Dane stated and suddenly let loose a huge fireball at the nearest tree, setting it ablaze. 'Whoo hoo! Didya see that?!' before setting another tree on fire. And another.  
    Startled, Cas backed up closer to the cabin, holding up his arms to shield himself from the blaze that now threatened to take down the whole forest. Dane was busy jumping around, setting more saplings on fire and pushing down a few trees to spread it around. 'Man this is so much fun! Tanner! Tan you gotta do this!' He whipped his head around, looking for his short friend. 'Tanner?' His jubilation was short lived once he saw the biped running away from him, panting hard and scared. 'Tan? Where are you going? We were just playing!' He said, now looking around himself at the burning forest. 'What did I do wrong?' He took a few steps closer to the cabin, 'Wait, you don't like my fire?'  
    Castiel kept on running, the cabin seemed like it was getting farther and farther away. He had to stop, he heard Dane behind him, asking him something but it was lost amid the roaring fire. He heard crashing sounds behind him and whipped around to see the dragon struggling to get closer. All of the playfulness was dropped and the dragon looked more and more worried that he made a big mistake. 'Tanner?!' he called out, the fear palpable.  
    Castiel didn't even hesitate, he spun around towards the blaze and broke out into a sprint after the dragon. "Dean! I'm coming! I'm coming, Dean!"  
    The dragon stumbled along for a little bit but had to stop and breath for a minute, the air clogging with smoke and ash. Choking and smothering. The flames were getting pretty out of control. Dane looked around for his mother just then, she'd know how to stop all this, make it better. He'd get a scolding, but he needed help right now. He'd take the punishment if it meant that this was suddenly all over. 'Mother?!' he called and heard no answer. 'Mom?' he whimpered, thrashing about in the trees trying to find a way out. Surrounded by fire, all alone. 'I don't know what to do! Somebody help me!'  
    “Cas?” a familiar human voice called out from the cabin. “You called for me?”  
    Castiel's head whipped around in time to catch a glimpse of Dean exit the cabin with a worried look on his face. All human and looking a little disoriented until he spotted his Cas running towards a wall of furious fire.  
    Dean saw the flames that were out of control and immediately dash towards Castiel, “Cas! Cas, what the hell? We gotta get outta here!” He shouted over the blistering hot flames and the instant he was close enough, gripped Castiel's arm, pulling him insistently away.  
    “Dean?” Castiel tugged out of his grip when he'd heard a different kind of roar behind them.  
    Dean nearly stumbled as he was jerked backwards, about to round on Cas for being stupid enough to stay put inside a roaring forest fire but stopping dead still when he saw the source of an even more deadly roaring sound.  
    A 30 foot tall adult male dragon was half crouching, half standing there amid the flames as if that is what birthed him. 'Get away from him.' It growled with a threat so certain and unyielding, that death would follow anyone that dared disobey.  
    Dean staggered a little, looking up at the enormous snarling beast. “What the...” words escaped him and he blindly reached for Castiel's arm again. His gaze jerked away from the dragon just long enough to shoot a quick confused glare at Cas for staying put. “Cas? We have to go!” he shouted. “That thing is gonna kill us!”  
    Cas evaded his grip once again and stepped in front of Dean to face the monster. Dean was now truly baffled and afraid of what the monster was going to do next. And just what the hell Cas was thinking, holding up his empty hands towards it. Dean cast his eyes about, looking for some kind of huge weapon to randomly appear, but came up empty. Castiel remained in-between the two.  
    “Dane! It's alright!”  
    'Like hell it is.' The dragon snarled back.  
    “I understood it.” Dean mumbled just loud enough for Cas to hear.  
    “Dane, this is Dean. He's a friend.” only his top half turned to show a little bit more of Dean standing behind him.  
    “What the hell, you named it?” Dean shot over Castiel's shoulder, using his hand to grip it tightly. Grounding him.  
    "Well I couldn't keep calling him 'Daddy' like he wanted.” Cas turned his head so Dean could only see one blue eye trying to look back at him while still facing Dane.  
    “Daddy.” Dean said flatly, momentarily floored by the loaded word. His face went through several different contortions before one of complete disbelief took over, he regarded the beast again, seeing it for what it is now. “Oh hell no, this is the dragon? My dragon? This is the side that thinks you and Sammy are his kids?”  
    Cas spared a full glance over his shoulder at Dean and frowned a little. This meeting wasn't planned but he's pretty sure it would have been just as awkward and uncomfortable as it is now even if they'd known it was going to happen. There's just no graceful way of meeting the other personality inside your body. Naturally, both of them will demand control of the body here, and only one will win in the end. Taking control in here, and then out there.  
    Dean has the experience of being a monster hunter his whole life, but Dane isn't easily defeated since the two humans are basically weaponless against a 30 foot tall animal ostensibly designed to kill and breed mayhem. However, in this dream world they are basically on equal ground because it's more of a battle of wits then brawn when dealing with the psyche. Cas doubted that Dean would relinquish the thought of killing a dragon inside it's own head for trying to 'steal' away his family. He expressed his disdain for the animal several times, and now he actually has a chance to do something about it.  
    “Wait a second, Dean.” Castiel turned towards his lover more fully. Hoping to get some words in before all out war. “He's not all bad. He's not evil.”  
    “What? He's a monster! He's dangerous! And he thinks that he's suddenly able to take care of you and my brother?!” Dean managed to pull Cas away from some flaming falling debris.  
    'Get away from my kid!' The dragon roared again and stalked a few feet closer. Trees no more then upright kindling were ash white and crackling against the body shoving past them, over them, crushing them. A force of nature demanding respect and obedience.  
    Dean whipped out his silver colt and aimed it at the dragon's head. “Shut the fuck up flame brain! Cas is not your kid! And even if he WAS you're sucking at your job because he's gonna die in this fire!”  
    Dane's face fell a little. The two bipeds were surrounded on all sides by fire, and he finally realized that they probably aren't as safe in it like he is. 'Wait...' he said, trying to process this. Fire was as natural to him as literally breathing. And now that violent biped is saying that it hurts them? Kills them? The implications of this were staggering, He's not just showing off his strength, he's killing them! 'Wait... I didn't mean...' he stammered. Sure the newcomer was annoying and needed to be put in its place, but not punished to the point of death! And Tanner... his baby Tanner is in danger...  
    “Cas, we gotta get out of here. Come on, the Impala is out back, we can just get in and drive.” Dean still had his gun trained on the dragon with his other gripping Cas's sleeve.  
    “Dean, he isn't violent. He's...” but that too died on his lips when a loud cracking noise sounded out above them. One of the trees looming over them was going to fall and they couldn't tell which one to dodge. Which way to go. They heard another crashing noise rushing towards them as the dragon was full on charging at them.  
    Deans eyes lasered into the target and he fired off several shots as the massive beast roared and dashed towards them. Blood pouring out of the wounds all over his neck and chest, one on his cheek and more coming, as Dean's gun seemed to never run out. Just as the monster was about to attack, Dean pulled Cas down underneath himself to protect him from the worst of it. A crashing sound deafened them as fire erupted from the very ground they stood on. A clawed hand as big as they were was suddenly there, raking along the ground, digging up the blazing plants and shoving them away. They heard grunting and growling overhead as Dean tried to remain over top of Cas, using his body like a human shield.  
    Another paw slammed onto their other side and dug at those plants as well, exposing dirt and rocks, they found themselves shoved forcefully into the shallow hole as more earth was torn from its roots and tossed around. A flurry of activity all around them.  
    “Damn it Cas! hold on!” Dean gripped Castiel's midsection and curled around him. The earth flying every which way and their bodies tossed about like rag dolls by the huge hands. Smothering their smoldering cloths with dirt raining down.  
    “Dean!” Castiel pleaded for Dean to take care of himself as well. It was hard telling what was smoke and ash and dirt in their eyes, faces, lungs.  
    “Hold on!” Dean shouted, trying to keep Cas from feeling the bite of the flames and dragon. He must have dropped his gun because it was laying on the ground a few feet away. A thick layer of dirt lay everywhere, the flames ringing the area instead of engulfing it. He chanced a look upwards, and was shocked to see that the dragon stopped trying to stomp out the flames and now had two full trees all along his back and sides, one part in his mouth as it struggled to keep it aloft. Clearly the two trees outweighed the beast as it slowly sunk towards the ground and the humans underneath him.  
    A split second after he bit the tree in his mouth in half, the dragon shouted, 'Go!' Flaming pieces of it rained down over them as the two main halves falling to either side instead of landing on them. The dragon was forced to his knees and then elbows. The weight of yet another tree falling on is back was too much to bear. 'GO!' he ordered and once he got a hand free, he shoved the two humans along the dirt path that he hastily made towards the edge of the fire, towards safety and the cabin that was still mercifully untouched. 'Please go!' he whined with one last shove, causing his left side to land on the ground and the trees to pin him down even more.  
    Cas and Dean tumbled over each other and looked back at the scene. The dragon roared in pain as the trees and flames consumed the area. Dean made sure that Cas was free from the fire and turned towards the wailing beast. Clear confusion on his face. No monster had ever, ever risked their own lives to save anyone else before. Least of all a hunter.  
    Just as Dean made up his mind to try and help out the dragon, another sick grating cracking sounded out overhead and a monolith of an oak tree was changing its position with deafening booms. Every leaf and twig on fire, the bark just barely covering a river of red hot coals. Chunks of it falling off, exposing the scalding hot trunk underneath. The next thing he saw was his sweet Castiel launching himself at Dean with full force before the weight of several tons crushed them into the ground.  
      
    Cas woke with a start, panting and gasping at the same time. He looked all around in a panic, expecting to see that huge oak inches from his face, but found only the cabin's ceiling overhead. His gaze immediately shot down when he felt movement on his chest.  
    His forearm was over top of the small dragon and he jerked it up and away so fast that it nearly went out of socket.       
    “Dean! Oh no, Dean. Dean are you alright?” Cas slowly brought his hand back over to the unmoving bundle. His gasping breaths drowning everything out. Nothing but curses and pleas from his mouth at seeing how limp the dragon was. “Dane? Are you there? One of you! Both, I don't care... Please! Speak to me!” he whimpered. He was vaguely aware that he wasn't alone in the living room anymore and saw Sam and Balthazar make it out of the room they shared cots in.  
    “What's going on?” Balthazar yawned, clearly trying to wake up faster by shaking his head.  
    Sam was a little more panicked. He rounded the corner and dashed to the couch as fast as his long legs could take him. “I felt it. I felt it.” he said as hands came in to gently touch the tiny dragon's body. “Dean? You with us?” he breathed. Cas's hands were still hovering, too afraid to even touch the body again after crushing it with his arm as he slept.  
    “I did this. I hurt him. My arm, I was asleep and my arm...” Cas babbled looking up towards Balth and Sam. “God I'm so sorry, my arm...”  
    Sam shushed him, taking the small dragon from his chest as carefully as ever. Hardly daring to breath. Gentle fingers snaked underneath the body and using the small handkerchief as a blanket turned bag, he scooped his brother into his hands, bringing him away from Castiel who slowly sat up, hands twitching without anything to do.  
    “Is he ok?” Cas asked with a quiet voice. Pleading that he hadn't done what he did. The thoughtless movement. It was the nightmare, he told himself. When really, the dragon should never have spent a single night on him while he's asleep. Anything could have happened, THIS happened. “Sam... I'm so sorry.”  
    Sam's eyes stayed on the dragon as he said, “It's ok, he's breathing.” and glanced at Cas for a second, seeing the devastated look on his face and sparing him a small grin even if he didn't feel like smiling. It was obviously a mistake that Cas was already being punished for. “Balth, can you give me a hand? Help me stand up?”  
    Balthazar nodded and slid his hands underneath Sam's armpits and lifted him up off of his kneeling position from the floor. “Damn you are one heavy kid.” Balth grunted as he guided Sam upwards. “Like a big rugby player.”  
    Sam huffed a quick laugh, “Let go of my butt.” To which Balthazar was about to correct, his hands clearly on his back, but out of view to Cas.  
    The mood lightened a little as Balth flashed his empty hands in view of Cas. “Alright, maybe later then, Cowboy.”  
    Sam moved towards the kitchen for better lighting. It was still very dark outside and would be for several more hours. Balth turned on the overhead and motioned for Cas to come closer as well. Cas was still sitting up on the couch, tears streaming down his face. Balth sighed and went over to Castiel and lifted him up as well, “Come on Cassie, when he wakes up he's gonna need to see you.”  
    “He wont.” Cas chocked up a little. “He wont once he knows that I was the one that felled the trees on them.” he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, “I was the cause of this. I hurt them. They had a chance to talk it out but I ruined it. They finally started talking... but...”  
    “Alright, sit.” Balth commanded. He tried to work out what the nightmare was about from the snippets of babble from his best friend. He then paced a little, wondering if he should wake up the others or let them sleep. Sam wasn't freaking out so the dragon must be ok enough. But it could be shock. “Sam? How's our little patient?”  
    Sam's eyes went to Balth and squinted before returning back to his work, he was busy unwrapping the small hand and foot, and had the jar of 'special medicine cream' sitting next to him. “I don't know, but this should help at least. It's not limited to breaks in the skin.” he said as he worked, taking a small square of the fabric to dip into the mush instead of using his fingers. He carefully laid it out over the hand cut and then with Balthazar's help, he re-wrapped it up. They moved onto the leg and did the same. The dragon stirred a little then, his leg must hurt more then his hand. “It was probably a fracture before, now it's broken.” Sam sighed heavily. More salve was added to the pinky finger thick leg and then wrapped up again. Making it straight and secure as possible. “Do we have any toothpicks? Or better yet, q-tips?”  
    Balthazar nodded and accepted his mission to get supplies, disappearing from the room.  
    Sam held onto the tiny leg, making sure it wasn't going to be turned, twisted or made worse if the dragon squirmed. Sam could practically feel the self loathing coming from Castiel. “It was an accident.” he mumbled.  
    “An accident I caused.”  
    “Still an accident. This isn't the first time he broke his leg. And since he's so small, the cream will work on him better. If he were our sized or bigger, it wouldn't do anything besides keep the swelling down and some of the pain, heal faster yes, but not as fast as it will now.” Sam ran his free hand down his face, wiping off some sweat. “It's actually a good thing he's so small, if this had to happen. The cream will work. He'll be up and walking in no time.” He spared a grin and then faced the dragon again.  
    Cas took a seat next to the dragon, Sam still standing. “I'm sorry.”  
    Sam just nodded at that. Apparently Cas wasn't going to let himself off the hook. “You're forgiven.”  
    Cas nodded back, apparently those were the magic words. Telling him it wasn't his fault wasn't going to work because it was his fault. And now to move past it, he needed to hear that he was forgiven for slipping up. Now all he needs to do is get Dean and Dane's forgiveness. Whichever one makes it out of there...  
    Bobby's tired voice came from the bathroom area, “Right here.” and they both emerged with a box of clean q-tips. “Move aside kid. I've tended enough of your broken bones to know how to set a leg properly.” Bobby then held out his hand for the tiny leg and with as much care as possible he gave an impressed nod. “Glad to see you didn't forget everything I taught you.” and accepted two of the 3 inch long plastic q-tips from Balthazar. One on each side as more proper gauze was unrolled by Sam. The improvised t-shirt strips turned bandages were discarded into the trash and Cas found his eyes following the red stains.  
    “In another life, I would have given my right arm for that blood sample.” Cas mused.  
    “And I would have helped get it to you.” Balth chuckled a little, “Now I’d give anything to keep his blood inside him where it belongs.”  
    A round of agreeing sounds were heard from everyone. Castiel noted that even though he and Balth were the ones that studied up on anatomy and biology, these hunters knew more about the practical applications for it, dressing the wounds of dragons as small as a hand. Sometimes adaptation trumped the studies alone. What good was learning how things worked if you never apply it when the need calls?  
    No sooner did Bobby tie off the last thread to secure the bandage to the leg, did the owner start to twitch. Eyes still shut, random growls and whimpers were faintly heard. Bobby and Balth hated never knowing what Dean was saying. They could do the communication spell themselves, but they only had enough for one more round. And they all saw how Dean's emotions were affecting Sam and Cas. Yesterday it froze them in place, keeping them from doing what needed to be done, which at the time, was to keep the dragon contained with level heads until they sorted things out. Their emotions got the better of them. It helped more often then not over the past few days, but to have three of their party down for the count if Dean alone was hurt, would cripple them and their epic quest would come to an abrupt screeching halt faster then the ending for Monty Python's 'Quest for the Holy Grail'.  
    The dragon was lifted again, as gently as ever, and placed in a makeshift nest of clean t-shirt. It twitched and murmured which made Sam and Cas lean forward, waiting, patiently-impatient, for him to make some kind of sense. At the moment, it was like sentence fragments mixed in with plain and simple growls.  
    “Is the communication spell wearing off?” Cas quietly asked Sam who frowned. This might be what it would be like when it happens, they just hoped that it would last longer then a few days.  
    Through the jumble of emotions and sounds, they clearly heard, 'I don't give a rats ass if you're a big bad Draglan.' a pause, wings unfolding to lay about lazily, 'Drauglin, whatever! You don't get to tell me what to do!'  
    Sam and Cas just looked at each other.  
    The tone of 'voice' changed a little, 'I will not let you hurt Tanner.' the wings were brought up tight for that then loosened soon after as if they were dropped luggage. Right when the voice changed again.  
    'Who the fuck is Tanner?' another pause, this one longer. 'His name is Cas and he's mine, Buddy, so you can just back the f- ' the dragon jerked to the side and the humans surrounding the table tensed up, hands lingering as if they could help a war of words going on in the dragon's head. The wings fidgeted a little and laid back down on the nest.  
    'He's not your kid! Oh for fucks -' the dragon eased back a little, giving off the impression of a rolling of eyes even though they were still firmly shut. 'No. Nuh uh, no no! He's my mate and I already called dibs on him. I was here first.'  
    The dragon's side fans twitched and the wings snapped back in, 'I was here first. I remember my mother. I remember my nest and growing up. Then something shoved me aside. Something overpowered me when I was still a nestling.' Silence but it was as if he were thinking things over and then interrupted.  
    The wings relaxed again. The others taking this as a visual cue when Dean was taking over versus Dane. 'Well, it wasn't me. I came to in some kind of warehouse, then again a few days ago.' his growls lessening to contemplative mumbles. 'Must have been the hybrid most of the time.' A pause, 'Hybrid, it means a mix of two things.' Another pause, wings twitching from agitation. Sam recognized that quirk from his human brother, Dean did not like to explain things that were just a bit over his head, to anyone, least of all an opponent. 'A mix of you and me.' wings relaxing again right after, 'Yeah I don't get it either.' silence followed after, it was anyone's guess what Dane was saying.    
    It sounded like the strange conversation was a good thing, Dean was getting to know the other side and the venom that was first there is slowly ebbing away from his voice. The dragon body was still mostly out, eyes remained closed through the whole thing, and limbs loose and akimbo. The growls were mostly murmurs and mixed in with hum's and long suffering sighs, from both sides.  
    “Dean.” Bobby said, hoping that when the dragon wakes up, it will be that one taking the helm. “  
    'Yeah?' the head moved to his left suddenly as if talking to someone that wasn't there, 'Hold that thought big bad and ugly.' A huff, 'You are so, now shut up, the grown ups are talking.' the dragon then cocked his head a little towards Bobby's voice, eyes still shut and body limp despite the conversation making the head bob up and down while speaking. 'Yeah, Bobby what is it?'  
    Cas translated and Dean turned his head to Castiel's position. 'Cas? That you?'  
    “Yes, Dean.” Cas grinned at the hopeful sound in the chirps.  
    'Cas man, next time you see dragon boy.... ok fine whatever, DANE. That better flame brains? Shut up. Next time you see Dane kick him in the nuts.' he huff laughed, 'It's not supposed to be nice. My god you are dumb.' the head jerked from the left again, 'Not you Cas, Dane. Dumb as hell.' Dean seemed to focus a little and squinted, eyes cracking open and the humans all took a breath. The little head shook minutely and squinted up towards Castiel's scent. 'Cas? Thank fuck!' he chirped and was about to stand up but cried out in pain. 'What the fuck is this?!' he yelled when he saw his leg was 100% bandaged up with two q-tips sticking out the top and bottom. 'Fucker broke my leg! You broke my damned leg, Dane!'  
    “Actually Dean, I, uh...I did.”  
    'Oh.' Dean said silently. 'Was probably an accident. No worries.' he tried and failed to cover up the leg with a wing, still half out of it. 'What happened? Dane's a real peach.'  
    The dragon's head jerked a little like someone flicked it, and the wings were folded up again tightly. 'I am not a 'peach'! You will respect me you miniscule brat!' The dragon huffed and looked up at all of the giants standing around him. 'Oh... hello.' a nervous twinge to his voice.  
    Everyone stood there, unsure what to make of what's going on exactly.  
    'Tanner, I wasn't saying that I think all bipeds are miniscule brats, just Dean. So infuriatingly rude.'  
    “It's ok, Dane.”  
    The dragon stilled, gaped. 'I understood that...' he mumbled. 'Say something! Say something else!'  
    “Umm, I’m not sure what...” Cas started, looking at the others.  
    'Wow!' the dragon exclaimed brightly. 'Oh wow. Ok so uh, I don't know how long I’ve got. This is so weird, one second I'm in a forest arguing with a little biped and the next I'm laying here on a table.' The dragon looked down. 'This is a table. I know what it's called now.' he looked around. 'Lamp. It makes light. Clothes. You bipeds, humans, are wearing clothes. And it's normal.' Dane huff laughed so joyfully it was like he forgot everything wrong for a few moments. 'Wow.'  
    “Dane, can you put Dean back on the line?” Bobby asked nicely.  
    'On the line, that's referring to phones. Handing a phone off to someone. Phones are used to talk to humans far away.' Dane said, squinting. 'You want to talk to Dean?' Dane frowned a little.  
    “Just for a few minutes.” Bobby grinned. “I'll have Dean call you back up front when we are done.”  
    'Ok... I guess.' Dane said, watching Cas, Cas not Tanner, translate for him. He closed his eyes and nothing happened. 'Sorry, I don't really know how this works.' He ducked his head down, wings tight and now vibrating with strain. 'Damn! I can't get it to work.' he sighed and turned to face Cas. Maybe if he stopped trying so hard to happen, Dean would pop back up without his help. 'So when Dean said 'Mate' he doesn’t mean.. Mate mate right?'  
    Cas blushed a little. “Um yeah. We uh, did that.” he practically croaked out, only Sam understood Dean and with one pointed look from Cas made him keep that to himself. Even if it was painfully obvious to everyone besides Rufus that they had mated not long ago. Some things were easier to deal with behind closed doors.  
    Dane gaped at him. 'But you're a human! And I'm Drauglin! What...I mean, Ta – Cas I considered you as my kid!'  
    Cas was now past blushing and full on beet red and embarrassed. He leaned in to whisper, “Can we talk about that later? Dean was in control at the time and I usually don't do, that, with anything not human. Okay? I wouldn't do that with you, just him.”  
    'But it's still my body!'  
    Cas rubbed a hand down his face, wishing a comet would turn meteor and strike him dead so he wouldn’t have to continue this conversation any longer. He never thought of what he and Dean did as anything but consensual. He thought to himself, 'There is so much gray area here I feel like im in a black and white burlesque film.' and sighed, trying to think of a way to make it sound less awful. “You weren't in it at the time.” It was a weak answer but it was all he had. “I promise no more of that unless it's just Dean and myself.”  
    Holy hell the giants can put off a fuck-ton of pheromones. Cas really was regretting it, and further rumination on it did make it sound less icky. Dean, that annoying human was the one in control of the body at the time. He had no way of 'asking permission' and even then, he truly believed he owned this body. Just like now, Dane didn't feel the need to ask Dean or the Hybrid permission to do anything he wished. Dane regretted to admit it out loud though, but to himself, he forgave that side for falling in love. Dean shouldn't have to ask anyone if he wanted to mate with Cas. Even now, he can sense the bond between the two of them, hell, he had just dismissed it as his instinct to take care of the humans. A familial tie instead of a romantic one. 'I guess it's fine, Cas.' he mumbled, then looked pointedly up at him. 'But you will never do that with me here. That understood?'  
    Cas took hold of that deal and nodded firmly. “Of course. Thank you.” he said, still feeling a little ashamed mixed with new gratitude. He doubted he and Dean would do anything like that any time soon, but the acquiescence was there from Dane and he couldn't be happier. He suspected that the Hybrid, DD, would be all for this kind of relationship, since it more or less started with him. Dean had been feeling their bond existing there even before he came to the forefront with the botched hypnosis they performed on him seemingly ages ago.  
    “You two done yapping?” Bobby sounded ticked off. “Dane. Get Dean.”  
    Dane stuck his tongue out at Bear, Bobby. Whatever. He closed his eyes again and tried to focus, bring back that forest with the pissed off human in a leather jacket and blue jeans. Minutes crawled by. The giants shifted around him out of boredom.  
    “Any time now.”  
    'I can't just make it happen! Dean's not answering. And before you ask, I don't know why!' Dane growled and clumsily got to his feet and winced at the pain. 'What the hell happened to my leg?!'  
    “This is going to be a long day.” Sam mumbled. All the excitement waned a little and the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. “I'm going back to bed. Y'all can do whatever you want. Wake me up never.” he yawned and staggered off to his cot again.  
      
    “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.” Balthazar said and went next.  
    Cas found himself yawning as well and Bobby just growled. “You idjits woke me up, so now I'm up.” He then went to the kitchen and started up the old coffee pot. “Get some more sleep boys. I'll talk to Dean later.”  
    “What did you want to talk to him about?” Cas asked.  
    “It's private.” Bobby's voice was gruff but Castiel knew he meant no disrespect and let it be. “Dane. Keep off of that leg and let us take you around. We put some medicinal cream on it so it will heal faster, but only if you take it easy. No flying and especially no walking if you can help it. If you didn't understand us before, I'll tell ya now, we aren't gonna hurt you. You're safe with us and can trust us.”  
    Dane wanted to pace around but his leg wound kept him from doing much more then swaying side to side to rid himself of some of the tension around him. He felt at least one of the giants' desire to put him back in the cage overnight. He knew it was for his own safety, and sure that the door wouldn't be closed again, but was not eager to go anywhere near it. 'Ok, Bobby.' Dane trilled and Cas translated. 'We can go back to the soft sitting thi – couch. We can go back to sleep on the couch.' Dane said absently, words and explanations were coming but only when prompted, he was grateful for that because if he was given a human's amount of information all at once, he's sure he'd pass out. As it was, if he looked at an object or focused on something for longer then a few seconds, the answer or identity of it will be right there. He guessed it was Dean's doing, or perhaps hybrid. Knowing now that the word hybrid was just a term, he wondered what that third personality was called. Someone said DD. Is that really a name? His thoughts were interrupted by Cas who moved his hand away from the table to rest in his lap.  
    “Dane, I do not feel comfortable sleeping next to you. I was... the one that broke your leg.” Castiel swallowed thickly and turned away from the dragon on the table, still laying down in the t-shirt nest. “You can take the couch, more room for you to sleep on so you don't accidentally fall off. I will be fine sleeping on the floor or in a chair.” he mumbled sadly, “I don't want to hurt you again. Even if it was on accident, I'm a danger to you.”  
    'Cas, Dean said it was an accident and uh, 'no worries'? Is that the phrase you kids are using? So I'm not going to worry about it either.' Dane shifted his position a little, settling deeper into the soft nest made out of a Henley. 'If it's not to much trouble, can you take me and this soft nest to the coffee table?' He trilled, adding, 'It looks like a cardboard box but Dean called it a table.' and shrugged.  
    “Of course, Dane.” Cas grinned at the compromise. He'd still be close but out of the line of fire if he moved in his sleep again. His hands hovered on either side of the shirt and the dragon rumbled a quick purr to calm his nerves. Knowing what Cas was feeling by his worried and protective scent.  
    Cas nodded at Bobby who made himself comfortable at the kitchen table with a new coffee cup in hand and a spell book in the other. Some light reading to pass the time until Rufus wakes up for their usual morning bicker.  
    Cas laid the shirt with dragon onto the box and adjusted the shirt a half dozen times before Dane snapped at him to stop already. Dane pulled up a corner of the shirt as a blanket and settled in just as the sun was sneaking in just a bit through the window curtains. Cas smiled at him and used another corner of the shirt as a sun blocker to make it dark enough for him.  
    Once the dragon was settled and softly snoring, Cas found himself drifting off too, his eyes unable to stay up as his body demanded it finish his rest. He found himself in the forest again, all traces of the fire gone, and Dean sitting cross legged in the middle of the clearing not too far away.  
    Dean turned when he heard the new arrival and grinned widely at him. “'Bout time. Dane is somewhere over there, goofing off or something with Sammy. Sam is still getting the hang of this, but Dane isn't helping because he's throwing Sammy off every few minutes, he keeps changing ages and sizes for the fun of it. Kinda freaky knowing that's what I looked like... well, look like now out there.” his hand waved towards the sky before using it to prop himself up again as he leaned back. “Whatever. I guess you were right, he's not so bad. Kinda weird sharing the body like a time-share condo. Heh, we were as big as one. But, if it works, it works.” Dean patted the ground next to him and suddenly there was a picnic blanket there, grown from the grass weaving themselves together into the sheet, and a basket when Dean leaned forward again, revealing it. “This lucid dreaming stuff is kick ass.” his hand twirled in a patch of flowers and he pulled up a plate with a slice of cherry pie on it. Pulling his fingers down from the air and producing a fork from the ether. He was getting very good at this now that there was no hellish fire-ridden nightmare to contend with. “Awesome.” he moaned at the rich taste.  
    “Indeed.” Castiel smiled warmly at his 'Mate' and sat next to Dean and stole some of his pie with his finger. Too lazy to manifest his own.

 

  
  
  
  
  
(this picture I drew is actually mirror imaged after I uploaded it, because when I was drawing it, I actually forgot which side he injured!)  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter's title, (pats self on back) Breaking the rules of Fight Club, as well as all the alternate personality battles going on.  
> This one is one of those chapters where even I wonder about my sanity. I think the next one will be more plot driven cause I seem to have meandered for a number of chapters...  
> Comments and Kudos are always welcome and honestly make my day and get me going.


	30. They've Come to Snuff the Rooster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby is supposed to be the man with the plan, always has it together, but when he crosses a possible 'Plan D' (when absolutely *everything* else fails) spell in one of Rufus's books, he's not so sure that it's all that much better then a mercy killing.   
> Speaking of, here comes the bad guys...

Chapter 30

They've come to snuff the rooster

 

 

 

Bobby watched over everyone while double checking the spell that he had run into from Rufus’s stash of research books. It wouldn’t be a permanent solution to Dean's problem, so it was regarded as 'plan D' – when _everything_ else fails. Funny thing is, is that the amulet that the spell required was already in their possession, but at his house back in Sioux falls. He had wanted to speak to Dean in private about it, but it seems as though Dane wasn't able to swap places with him. It wasn't Bobby's or Sam's or anyone’s decision to do it but Dean's. Dean would be the one to live with the consequences and side effects. And the toll on the caster and Dean might be a high price to pay. There's no telling what will happen for sure, this kind of spell work was only intended for other run of the mill monsters. Dean wasn't one of them, neither was Dane or the hybrid, DD. If DD was still even in there... Bobby wondered what happened to that one. Did it just split in half again after Dane and Dean took over? Solidifying the two polar opposites?

That was just another thing to worry about. What was going to happen to the other personalities once Dean gets his human male model physique back. There was much more reading and researching to do for this 'all else fails _again_ ' plan. It wasn't even guaranteed to work either. There was just as much possibility that everyone blows up, as they do having a happy ending. Happy endings are overrated. If anyone's gonna take the brunt of the spell if it goes bad it should be him. He feels old and is crippled just enough to wind himself climbing a flight of stairs. His hunting days were numbered. Equal likely to be a casualty of war as a hero. Or martyr maybe... two birds - one spell. 

Bobby grimaced at himself at the negative thinking starting to take over again. Sam wasn't the only one that felt guilty for failing Dean. But remembering what Dean made him promise, gave him his second wind. He promised Dean that he wouldn't give up. Giving up on himself or his family. There was always a way out of this, he just has to figure it out with the group. No martyr's dying now or later. All of them are gonna make it out of this. He just has to stop screwing around and get better real quick. Do those stupid hippy yoga exercises that the Doc recommended to strengthen his back muscles and legs. Of course he'd wait till he was either by himself or with Rufus. Rufus didn't give a crap, and besides that, he could use some of those exercise tips himself. 'No hunter grows old gracefully.' Rufus had told him once. How true that is. 

Bobby glared at his cane. He was trying like hell to keep from using it but Sam will realize sooner or later that he hadn't been using it all that much since all the excitement with Dane was going on. He's feeling it in his sore muscles and creaky spine though... better just bite the bullet and do those exercises. Use the damned cane until he feels well enough to tango with a Windigo. “Who'm'I kidding. Be lucky not to turn doornail in a simple 'salt and burn'.” Bobby mumbled to himself.

Castiel and Dane must be dreaming again, both of them idjits are making all kinds of happy sounds that have nothing to do with anything r-rated, or found in the restricted section of DeviantArt. Just, peaceful, pleased sounding noises. Those love struck kids are ten pounds of crazy in a hand basket, and he prays to anyone listening that their story doesn't turn out to be one of 'em romantic tragedies. Poor fools. Just had to fall hopelessly in love in the worst possible time and place. 

He yawned and turned to the next page in the spell book and hunkered down a bit further into his seat. Coffee got cold, but the maker is just too far away to do anything about it. He drank up the rest quickly, not letting the cold bother him and focusing on thinking it like an iced coffee instead. Yuppies in the city would spend ten bucks on this cold stuff. 

Bear. Dane actually named him, _Bear_. Bobby grinned a little to himself. He felt anything but strong and impressive, but maybe to the little guy, he was. Bobby tilted his head and neck a little to loosen up the tight muscles and heard a nice couple of cracks in his neck. He's old, _care worn,_ not dead. He can still help out, and those boys all still look up to him and depend on him and that's a damned good ego booster right there.

After the sun rose up high enough to skirt the big oak in the side yard, Rufus was heard in their shared room, shuffling about. The faintest grunts heralding the fellow old codger's awakening. Good to know that he wasn't the only one in the house that creaked and cracked like trees falling while getting to their feet. 

Rufus emerged with his trademark frown and after doing a cursory check on the rest of the cabin from his stance in the doorway he nodded once to himself and noted Bobby sitting at the table with a book. Not a word was spoken as he started up the coffee pot again and shuffled over to sit across from Bobby, fingers lacing on the table.

Keeping his voice low, Rufus admonished, “Bobby, don't tell me you've been up all night worrying about your rug-rats.”

“Not all night, had to help set a busted leg.” Bobby nodded over towards the couch and Rufus jolted for a second, worry spiking through him that he slept through one of their own being in danger. At Bobby's fairly relaxed tone and posture he felt himself calm marginally. It must not have been too life threatening. Rufus noticed the rumpled t-shirt on the improvised coffee table as Bobby continued, “Dean'll heal up in no time. Castiel accidentally shifted in his sleep and his arm landed on the boy wrong. But Sam was able to re-wrap him up with the special salve. Apparently dragons heal just as fast as regular monsters, and even faster with a boost.” Bobby nudged the sealed jar with a knuckle, indicating the salve that was starting to run very low. Little more then smudges on the inner walls of the jar. The bearded hunter was about to take another sip of coffee when he remembered how cold it had gotten and shoved it towards Rufus. “Gonna have'ta figure out how we can get more of that salve. Works wonders.”

Rufus was on his way to the coffee maker anyways so he took Bobby's mug to the sink, emptied it and filled it along with his own and came back to the table. “There was that other thing you talked about months ago,  Picececolus Drationaglie? 'Dragon herb'? What did you do with the last batch I loaned you?”

Bobby took a long pull of the coffee before Rufus had a chance to throw the mug across the room. “Lost it.” 

Rufus leaned forward, voice gone a little dark. “Excuse me?” He closed his eyes and said, “I could have sworn I just heard you say you _lost it_. That you lost the _one thing_ that can tranquilize an adult dragon without killing it.”

Bobby took another hasty gulp, ignoring the hot burn down his throat before nodding reluctantly. “Don't go blaming me, it's not like I misplaced it behind the tea kettle. It was stolen from us when Azazel's gang kidnapped Dean. They ransacked my house and took everything we needed to help Dean.” Bobby lifted his eyes to send a slightly challenging glare at his partner. “I know it sucks. It's a damn shame. But it's not my fault. We were over-run and lucky to get out with our lives.”

Rufus listened closely and heard no lie, lifting up his hands as truce. Then folded them on the table again. “So what are we gonna do now? Half of my plan with the other good hunters involved sedating big momma dragon and Gordon till we figured out what to do with them.”

Bobby frowned into his mug again. “Working on it.”

Rufus let up and said, “We'll just have to either get more, or, get it back.”

“How? In case it slipped your mind we ain't in any position to go after Azazel and his cronies. And we don't have the money to buy more of it.” 

The two men sat at the table and let the coffee wake them up a little better. Rufus slid the spell book that Bobby was reading from towards himself to see what was so important. Bobby had his hand up in an aborted attempt to keep his partner from seeing. Rufus side-eyed him and then settled the book more firmly in front of himself. Wordlessly telling Bobby that it was _his_ book the other hunter was reading. 

Rufus flipped back to the dog eared page and aimed a finger down towards the thick yellowed paper. “This one? You can't be serious.” he frowned and shook his head. 

“'Plan D' for Dumbass.” Bobby admitted. “But if everything goes to pot, what the hell option do we have besides... putting him down?” Bobby's voice went quieter then ever as he leaned forward. He quickly glanced towards the other room to make sure they were still sleeping. After a beat he nearly whispered, “If those spells don't work we are gonna have a _real_ monster on our hands. A mindless beast incapable of rational thought. It's gonna look at us like food and nothing else. Dane wouldn't even be the one in charge, it will be worse then a blood thirsty demon.” Bobby's eyes held all of his emotions about the decision. “I know Dean, Dane, and whoever else might be in there that they wouldn't want that. They wouldn't want to be the cause of so much death and mindless destruction. Either the spell works on that equinox, or we use this, the only other option besides it is a merciful death.”

Rufus's hands laid over the spell, suspecting the implications and repercussions from it to be nearly as bad as the situation now. This would be like a step sideways and slightly back then a strong step forwards. He ducked down and looked up at Bobby's face. “I know you know that this isn't a cure. Proverbially this is a band-aid on a broken leg. The leg's still broken, Bobby, it'll 'heal' _wrong_.” Rufus stared intently into Bobby's eyes the double meaning loud and clear. He sighed, long and hard with a hint of acceptance. “I’m going on the record and saying I don't like it, but I’ll help you do it. And when it inevitably bites us in the ass, well, retirement is overrated.”

“We're gonna make it out of this Rufus. Can't let that kind of thinking get us.” Bobby said firmly, “And so what if he heals wrong. We will help him figure out a new way to 'walk' with what he's got.” Bobby gripped his cane and tapped the edge of the table to emphasize his point. “At least he'll be able to do it on two legs and not four.”

“You _hope_.” Rufus scoffed before leaning back in his chair a little. He let out a breath and said, “Hell, I hope too. Cross that bridge if we get there. You got the charm for it?”

“At home. I think. Gave it to Sam to give to his Daddy a few years back but he never got the chance, been in storage at my house ever since. 'Less Azazel stole it too. ”

Rufus frowned again, “I say we take him out first.”

“Azazel's not the biggest threat. I was thinking we take out Michael first. He's just one man with paid help.”

“From what I understand, Michael is busy fighting the military. If we get rid of Godzilla, who's to stop Mothra from attacking our little Tokyo?”

“Good point.” Bobby rubbed his beard. “You know what their problem is? Besides us? They have jobs. Paper trails. Yet they think they don't have to answer to anybody. What would happen if everyone found out about where their tax dollars have been going?”

Rufus chuckled. “You thinkin' about that time your scrap heap was audited?”

Bobby just grinned like the Cheshire cat. 

They worked on their plan till the others woke up for good that day in the afternoon, and over brunch pitched it to eager ears. Keeping the one plan dealing with Dean private until they can talk to him about it since it'll be his decision whether or not to go through with it. It's basically going to impact Dean the most out of everyone. Meanwhile, Dane was still firmly front and center, and was enjoying sausage and bacon for the first time. He simply would not stop harassing everyone at the table for their portion. Trying to gather them up as his 'hoard'. His exaggerated hobbling gained the desired sympathy card and he made off with no less then 12 strips of bacon that he meticulously piled up and guarded like a proper dragon would. Sam grinned at his antics and gave him his portion of sausage as well. Dane grinned back and jut out his wrapped leg at nearly a 90 degree angle so he could lay down and curl around the pile of food that rivaled his size. Occasionally taking another bite when his stomach allowed and rearranging the hoard again.

After Dane had gotten the seasoned meat in his possession, Sam noticed his broken leg seemed to be doing mysteriously better, but decided to let it go. Poor little guy had been through enough. Sam knew it was hard dealing with all of this and vowed to go easy on him until he's all healed up. 

He was only pushing his brother because Sam knows better then anyone that Dean thrives best when given a challenge. Sam made sure never to push harder then he knew Dean could take. And now look at him. Dean's fear of heights was waning, he was managing it instead of being hampered by it. The daily exercise and better food portions helped his muscle mass build up after they'd atrophied from all those months trapped in tight confinement. His flying skills improved dramatically, and his old fighting skills and knowledge were being adapted for this body. Even his problem solving skills were being worked out when he was challenged with reaching the beer on top of the table. Dean figured out how to reach the table by utilizing his environment. Now, Sam's positive that his older brother would have no problem flying up to the table without a climbing aide. Dean is tackling obstacles in that body and seemed to be accepting it as his own instead of loathing it. It would have been ridiculously easy to take care of Dean to the nth degree while he's small and seemingly helpless, but that would only exacerbate the overall problem. It wasn't solely that Dean wasn't in good shape, but nearly everything to do with his mindset. Sam missed hearing his brother's jokes and quips. The signs that his older brother is alright _mentally_ and _emotionally_. There was the odd playful jab here and there, but the more confidence Dean had in his growing abilities, the more relaxed he seemed. More like himself, well, his _old_ self. Dean needed to boost his own self worth and ego and the best way to do that was to have him accomplish attainable goals. Like everyone else in the world. Just like little kids being given awards for just showing up isn't quite the same as earning the gold if they worked hard and practiced long enough. There's nothing finer then knowing you succeeded.

Dean knew how to fight, how to think on his feet and how to survive and Sam just wanted his older brother to get back into that mindset instead of worrying about what's going to happen next and sulking on being a dragon instead of human. He's a dragon. No point in fretting over that fact right at the moment when they could be using it to their advantage. Since it doesn't look like they are able to just wait it out till the equinox, they need to fight just to stay alive. They need to accept the facts and deal with the problems one at a time. Sam wondered what his own problems were, he was so caught up in Dean and the general crap fest their lives have turned into, that he barely gave himself time to reflect. At least, not on anything deeper then the bubble of guilt that pops up every once in awhile. His goal is to just get his brother back to normal and hopefully keep everyone else safe in the process. Sam shook his head at the tangent he went down, sounding like a bad cliché. Put the deep introspective moments aside and away from the microscope. KISS. Keep it simple stupid. 

Dane however knew next to nothing about fighting to the death, all of the dragon's opponents were prey animals with no defenses that can beat him. Of course, now that hes only 6 inches tall, he's vulnerable, so once he's back on four strong feet, the training will continue on, but at a much slower, reasonable pace. Dean had been able to take it his whole hunting life, fighting monsters was second nature. There were times when he did think about hanging up the towel, but sure enough, another big bad would come along and the challenge to defeat them usually made him stronger.

Castiel is so much like Dean in that respect, give the guy a tough situation and he will overcome it. Give him a goal and he will achieve it. Sam wondered if he himself was getting enough training as well. He missed his sparring matches with his brother. At the moment, no one else in this group could stand up or last in a fight with him so his skills and body are getting a tad soft and sloppy. Cas is showing signs of being a scrappy fighter that is quick on his feet. He never would have guessed it from the man. And looked forward to continuing the lessons so he'd have a capable sparing partner again. At least until Dean gets back to normal. Then they can get back to hunting. Maybe even gaining a few good men on their hunts... but that'll be discussed much later. He doesn't even know if Cas would be into that kind of thing, or if Dean would even want to do it anymore. Would he want to jump back into hunting monsters? Now that he's got a unique perspective on them?

Sam found himself staring off, thinking about what life would be like away from hunting. Live a normal life. He jolted back to the present when Bobby nudged his arm and said, “And Sam here's pre-law so he can figure out the best way to get 'em.” Sam nodded dumbly, having found that he lost the conversation entirely but unwilling to point it out in front of everyone. Something to do with the law. Well that narrows it down... Sam sighed and ate his pancakes. His phone played a few tones, signaling that he got a text message. He'll check it later.

'Who just said 'flower petal'?' Dane asked, head cocking to the side and looking over towards the living room.

Cas and Sam looked up at the little dragon and another message was received by Sam's cell. 'Ok, guys... who the hell is talking over there?' 

“Dane?” Sam asked, glancing at his cell and noticed the screen was bright for a second then dimmed. “Oh!” Sam chuckled. “It's my phone. I guess it sounds like a dragon chirping. Man, who'd have thought?”

Dane squinted up at Sam, figuring out what he's talking about as the phone clearly said 'flower petal' again. He trilled, 'It does that often?'

“Just when I get a message from someone. It's like a phone call, but in text form... uh, words written down. I'll check it later.” Sam shrugged and continued to cut up his pancakes, wondering if the other phone's sounds were also in dragon speech.

Dane nodded slowly and shrugged, going back to licking a small patch of his bacon strip in lieu of eating it. He was too stuffed but still wanted that flavor in his mouth. He only half listened to the conversation being had that was over his head in more ways then one.

All through the plan, Balthazar was grinning ear to ear because he knew just the two blokes to make it happen. The loose plan was to expose all of Michael's shady business deals to the real FBI and get him under surveillance, but before anything more could be discussed in better detail, a shrieking alarm went off on the wall. 

“Shit! Perimeter has been breached!” Rufus jumped from his chair and ran towards the right bedroom. Things were thrown around and Bobby shooed the others to get moving too. 

Cas and Balth were nearly frozen to the spot. Having little to no idea what to do next. At the end of the day, they were still just scientists and conspiracy theorists. Their kind of action adventures usually involved test tubes and news articles. Thankfully Sam noticed and gave them orders. “Cas! Grab the bag from the room and get everything from the bottom drawer of the dresser into it. Make sure to get every box of ammo. Balth, in the basement is a table filled with knives, grab the two that have triangular shaped blades on them, the silver ones. Then get all of our stuff and put it in the Impala's trunk. Here's the keys.” Sam tossed them over and Balth was out of the room in the next breath. The dragon was left on the table, pacing awkwardly next to his pile of meat, wanting to help but also not wanting to get in the way or hurt by the giants all running about the place. The front door was swung open and a different alarm sounded out for a few seconds and stopped. 

Rufus shouted, “Two hundred yards! The north, no! Wait! The south side!” 

Bobby was busy throwing things into duffels and carting them out to the Impala and truck. He stopped and noticed the little dragon looking at the open door. He knew that Dane was thinking about what chances he had out there on his own versus hanging out with fast moving dangerous giants. 

Dane saw Bobby turn towards him on the table and felt himself freeze a little under the intense stare. His wings twitched a little as if his body wanted to fly but he stayed put. Bobby strode up to the table, leaning heavily onto it with his other arm pinching his walking stick to his side to keep it from falling. The old hunter indicated the opened cabin door as he said, “Your choice, Son, but I assure you, you are better off with us, then trying to survive out there on your own.”

Just the fact that he was given a _choice_ firmed his resolve. He wasn't going to be trapped against his will, now that he knows all the facts he is able to choose what he wants to do. He only had to think about it for a moment, considering how much that other one, Dean, considered these humans as family. He himself had no one. His thoughts stumbled around that one fact. He had been alone, but now could determine if he wanted to change that.

The others were still running back and forth, making the ground tremble with each footfall and rash movements, debating on what to bring or leave as another different sounding alarm went off.

“One hundred yards!” was shouted from the bedroom just before Rufus exited it with a shotgun across his back along with a heavy bag of ammo, two guns on his belt and another high powered gun in his hands. He strode angrily out of the front door mumbling, “Ain't nobody gonna be getting in here uninvited.” He was halfway out the door when he remembered something. He paused just long enough to uncover a very small, nearly completed, blood sigil just on the inside of the door frame. A thin needle was laying nearby and he jabbed it into his finger and let some blood pool at the end that he promptly used to finish the circle and add some markings on the outside of it. He shouted inside of the house. “Make sure you got what you need 'cause once you leave, you ain't _never_ getting back in without me!”

Some distant cries and curses were heard in the forest. Rufus's silhouette exited the cabin and he opened fire on the intruders. 

Bobby spun back to the table with his hands cupped in front of the dragon. “What's your choice?” He shouted, the others were done packing and out the door, with Balth being the only other one left in the house grabbing what food he could into the cooler. 

“Come on, Dane!” Balth said, “They're coming!”

Dane knew he had no chance at all by himself, even if he did manage to escape to the woods, his busted leg, and the fact that he was just so small in a giant's world, was only part of the decision. Mainly, he wanted to stay with his friends, with Dean's family, they'd been there for him, and he wanted to be there for them. They were risking their lives for this. To keep him safe. Before he could talk himself out of it, he took a few steps forward towards Bobby's hands and Bobby gave a quick grin and helped him out, picking him up gently around his midsection with one hand, holding him to his wide flannel coat covered chest. With his free hand, he scooped up all of the dragon's hoard in a napkin and tucked it into his side pocket. Dane laughed but was jostled when the hand moved. 

“Gonna have to put you in a pocket, I need my hands free. You ok with that?” Bobby asked. However, whatever the response was, was lost when a crashing noise sounded out alongside the house. A sharp string of bangs that trailed from one side to the other and back again. The dragon found his world shifting forward away from the body for just a second as Bobby caught his balance back on the table. Shoving off of it and standing on his own again. Bobby reached into his coat and pulled out a few things and push them into a different pocket further down into the other side pocket. Dane saw a wide storage pocket on the front of Bobby's inner shirt open up with the now empty returning hand at the same time that he was thrust closer towards it. 

All the while, shouts, cries and bangs were heard outside. They were in the middle of a war zone. 

Bobby shouted over the noise, “Wings!” and Dane folded them in tightly to his body as his legs were then forced together to keep his claws from catching on the fabric. His tail tucked in too and he found himself shoved into the pocket, curling up the second he was able and felt the top of the pocket close slightly. Dane felt and heard a fast paced rhythmic thumping against the warm wall and realized it was a heart that was nearly as big as he was, right behind him, inside the chest of his rescuer. 

“Hold on, I'm closing my coat to help hide you.” Bobby said between bangs outside. The light dimmed considerably and Dane curled in tighter. He hoped belatedly that his claws and spikes weren't hurting Bobby too much as he shifted around. He tried very hard to keep his wings folded in tightly because he knew that one wrong move and the thin bones would break with all of the shifting fabric and muscles pushing and sliding around his hiding place. He could hear Bobby grab something metal that rattled and then the whole body lurched side to side before spinning around. Dane swallowed hard when the body shifted suddenly to the right side when the hunter slid his cane in through his belt like a sword scabbard. Then Dane felt nauseous at the swaying motion towards the door. Bobby's limp was trying to be downplayed but the little dragon felt every stiff joint that protested the sudden movements. 

Dane looked up but couldn't see much past the crashing waves of fabric and the graying beard covering the clenching jaw, but still rumbled encouragement, 'You can do it, Bobby.' Dane pat the wall to his side and hoped that the hunter got the message. 'You're doing good.'

Bobby opened up the front door again and found himself filled with pride at the fact that four of them were able to hold off more then 20 people. Most of them were caught in 'stay put' circles and fired where they stood, trapped until someone that knew how to let them go from the circles came around. Luckily, they were caught unawares themselves. They can't release themselves and were helpless to do more then shoot from hundreds of yards away. Their aim not much better then stormtroopers from that far off. 

“We're all good! Get to the cars!” Bobby shouted, slamming the cabin's door shut behind him and feeling the tingle of energy from the sigil activate. He got into the shotgun seat of Rufus's truck awkwardly, having to angle his cane to keep it from getting caught in the truck's door. He then pulled out his handgun and started to roll down his window. Rufus backed up to block the black muscle car from the majority of bullets, allowing Balth and Cas to slowly make their way to the Impala, hunching down as bullets still flew over the bed of the truck towards their heads. Barely missing by inches. Sam was the last to get into a vehicle and dove into the driver's side of the Impala, keys already jammed into the ignition by Balth riding shotgun. Sam lets Rufus peel out first and follows close behind. Castiel and Balthazar got used to the bumps in the road pretty quickly, finding their balance as they knelt on the seats. Grabbing a handgun each from the duffel bag and shooting at everything that moved from the windows. They reloaded and kept firing until the cabin and the attackers were out of sight. 

Bobby unzipped his coat and cautiously opened up his pocket to check on his own passenger. “You good there Buddy?”

The dragon lifted a woozy head and chirped at him.

“Sorry, that a 'yes' or a 'no'?”

A tiny clawed hand lifted haltingly and the thumb was raised. 

Bobby sighed with relief and said, “Jus hold tight in there till we figure out where to go from here.”

Rufus grumbled next to them about his cabin being the safest place for them and now it's gone. He punched the dash and hissed at the resulting flare of pain. 

“It's ok Rufus, save it for the bad guys.”

Rufus snorted a little. “At least it'll take them a hot minute to get out of those sigils. Wont be easy. Gotta hand it to Sam, he knows his way around a casting circle.” It made him feel a little better knowing that when one sigil is broken, another is probably waiting for them further in. Be it his own old sigils, or any one of the new ones Sam made on the tree's, they would probably have a day at best before those guys cause any more havoc. “So, since we are in the lead,” he double checked to confirm that the Impala was still behind them, keeping up on the bumpy roads, “Where are we going now?”

“I don't know.” Bobby admitted. They couldn't go back to his house in Sioux falls, Azazel knew about it and probably all his hangouts by now from the locals and other hunters. At one point or another, all of the hunters within 4 state radius had gone to Bobby for aide. The ones that Rufus were unable to convince on helping would know where to find the dragon if they chose to add the breed to their list of monster kills. Some hunters took pride in their work and kept trophies. It sickened Bobby to think of the dragon's head stuffed and mounted. The jaw wide to show off his teeth and the rest of his face probably forced into a threatening snarl, ignoring the fact that the dragon rarely looked pissed.

Bobby's cell phone rang and he picked it up warily, unable to recognize the number. He was still reeling from the thoughts of Dean being dead and got ticked off at the caller for daring to demand his attention. Dane shuffled inside his pocket, clearly nervous. His protective instincts took over as he nearly shouted accusingly into the phone, “Who is this?” Reserving this tone of voice for telemarketers that call during supper.

“Bobby,” Sam said, only slightly taken aback, “Is Dane alright? How is he? Did he say anything?” 

“Well, he chirped if that's what you're asking.” he sighed and rubbed his hand on his face. Calming down his temper, “He seems fine, gave a thumbs up when I checked on him. Hang on...” Bobby said and opened up his coat again, lifting the flap of his shirt pocket and half lowering the phone into it. “Dane? Sam's on the phone, he wants to ask you something.”

The dragon shifted around a little and to Bobby it sounded like a string of chirps with the occasional trill, but he heard Sam responding back through the small speaker. He lifted it back to his ear when he heard Sam say his name a few times.

“Yeah?” he asked, helping the dragon stand up a little in the pocket, just enough to look out. The dragon's jaw dropped as it saw the dense forest scenery fly by. Bobby didn’t realize he was doing it, until he noticed the dragon lean into his fingers as he gently pet the tiny head. Consoling him and calming him from the huge world that whipped by the windows. He could tell that Dane was debating if he wanted to just drop back down into the pocket again. 

Sam said over the phone, “Dane say's he's fine, a little sore, but he can put a bit more weight on his leg. He's grateful for your protection. And that you have a big heart. Literal or figurative, he didn't say. Probably both Papa Bear.” Sam huffed a laugh. Dane jerked his stare away from the woods and up towards the phone, a weird chirping growl aimed at it as his good hand clawed at the edge of the pocket. Sam chuckled again and informed, “He also said that 'clothes are weird as hell,' and apparently he was jealous of our ability to wear things with pouches.”

Bobby just looked down at the little dragon peeking his tiny head out of the pocket and shook his head a little. His index finger eclipsed the head and he lightly booped his horns. The little dragon snorted at him, lifting a lip briefly before lowering it again and folded his forearms on the rim of the pocket, huffing silently for being treated like a toddler. 

Bobby put the phone on speaker and lowered the microphone part closer to Dane. He grinned and said, “Dane. I just want you to know that you're family. I don't care what you look like, because family don't end with blood.”

The dragon looked up to the huge head that hovered there and swallowed thickly. A rumbling trill sounded out and Sam helped translate, “Thank you, Bobby.” 

The phone gave a beep and Bobby tisked it. A text message. “Sorry Sam, got a text. I'll put him on later if he's got something to say.” Bobby hung up and checked the message, “Rufus, you said Ellen and Jo were on our side now?”

Rufus looked over to the phone and said, “Yeah, that's right. They were the first one's I was able to convince.”

“Ellen said that she just found out about the attack on your cabin and is trying to warn us to keep an eye out for Michael's men.”

“Little late for that.” Rufus said, “But at least we know now it was Michael's thugs.”

Bobby hummed at him and texted back about what happened at the cabin. Another beep nearly immediately after. “Balls.” Bobby cursed. Dane obviously felt the tension and ducked down into the pocket. Bobby trailed a couple of fingers on the outside of it to help sooth his nerves.

Rufus glanced over at Bobby for just a second before looking back at the road. “What is it?”

“That wasn't the attack she's referencing. They mean to get us tonight. She says they are closing in again and that we need to find a safe house or more allies.”

“Where is she in all this?”

“Right in the middle of the death star. She's undercover with the group, she and Jo have been trying to stall them from finding us this whole time and were only now able to warn us. She's also wondering where the hell Dean is.” Bobby glanced at the bulge in his shirt pocket. “She doesn't know either?”

“Bobby, nobody knows! Hell, I didn't know until I walked onto the porch! How the hell would she know if I didn't know when I recruited her and her daughter?”

“Good point.” Bobby said, checking his handgun and loading up another clip. “So why did they go after the cabin?”

“Probably 'cause they figure we are the only ones that know where Dean is. They aren't wrong, but they must assume he's stashed somewhere else.” Rufus looked to the side for a few seconds before focusing on the bumpy road again, leading out of the woods. Bobby's phone beeped again, twice in rapid succession. “Ok, what else does she say?”

Bobby checked his phone and shrugged. “She's just hoping that wherever we are keeping him, that it's far away from us because we are the ones that Michael is tracking.” He scrolled down a little, “She thinks Michael figured out how to work a tracking ritual. Jo is trying to figure out which one of us Michael is tracking, that way we can do a cleansing spell to sever the link.”

Rufus chuckled. And then laughed harder at the look Bobby shot at him. “Doesn’t matter which one of us it is Bobby, we just do the cleansing on all of us.”

Bobby sighed, exasperated, “That's not an option you old fool! Half of us are already under one spell or another, doing that will null and void _all spells_!”

“What're you saying?”

“I'm saying we end up with a 30 foot tall dragon on our laps that we can't talk to! Oh, and the healing salve wont work at all since it's infused with a bit of hoodoo and he'll be too big for it to work anyway. Dean's leg will stay broken instead of healing in a day or two. Then we will have a 30 foot tall lame and mute dragon that may or may not ditch our asses because he thinks he wont need us anymore if he's back to normal.”

The dragon looked up and frowned a little, trilling softly before turning back to the sights all around the windows. Bobby didn’t bother trying to figure out what he said, not wanting to call Sam or Castiel up again every time Dane made a noise. It didn't seem too important since the dragon didn't speak up or get upset when Bobby didn't call Sam.

“Alright, alright, no need to get snippy.” Rufus adjusted his seat a little and his eyes went back to the path. “So? Plan B for right now?”

“I still don't know.” Bobby grumbled. 

In the Impala, moods weren't that much better. Sam and Cas were still able to tell what the dragon was feeling, most of it was awe and a little intimidation. Cas couldn’t pinpoint why, but he figured it had something to do with the car trip more then whatever was going on inside the cab of the truck ahead of them. 

Sam sighed, “Well, we are kinda up shit creek at the moment. Not gonna sugar coat it. We need a place to stop and regroup. Any thoughts?”

“No idea. I'm not even clearly sure where we are at the moment.” Balthazar said from the shotgun seat. 

“Just outside of Whitefish, Montana.” Sam said, dodging another pothole that threatened to make them crash. He envied Rufus's truck ahead of them, built for these kinds of roads. The Impala was sleek and stylish and definitely not for off, off, _way off_ road paths. You need to hide a stash of weapons and a full werewolf body in the trunk? Baby's right there, but turning sharp corners between trees on a path that hadn't been cleaned in decades? Not so much. Thankfully the truck was helping beat down the taller grasses and saplings to make it marginally easier for the car behind it. 

“Might have to camp out for the night if we don't find anything.” Cas mused. “Should we even try for a hotel?”

“All depends on Dean really, might be alright since they wont be expecting us to find refuge in the city. They don't know that he's small enough to fit inside a hotel, so.. I dunno... maybe.” Sam checked the gas gauge again, still mostly full thanks to Rufus's stores at the cabin.

“In the meantime, we need to get as far away from here as possible. As fast as possible.” Sam said. The truck ahead pulled over in a small clearing, an arm out the driver's side window urging them to pull up beside. 

“So? Ideas?” Sam asked Rufus. 

“I have many ideas, now which ones did you want to hear?” Rufus smirked.

Castiel got out of the car and peered in through the window towards Bobby, specifically his lap and chest. “May I see him?”

Bobby opened up his coat more and revealed the small dragon peeking over the lip of the pocket. “Safe and sound.” even as he said it, the dragon squirmed in the pocket, getting his front legs up onto the lip and chirping at Castiel. Bobby lifted up his hand underneath the bottom of the pocket from the outside and lifting it up gradually so the dragon can use it like an elevator lift to reach the top easier. Bobby was amazed that the dragon was letting him cup his hand around the back and lifting him up and away from the fabric pouch to rest in his other hand. More chirps and Castiel gave a slightly blushing grin. Ah, so Dean's back. 

“Cas? Mind if I talk to Dean for a minute?” Bobby asked, Dean's wings were loose at his sides and he looked up and chirped a few times.

“I don't mind, did you need me to translate?”

“No, I got it, all I need are yes or no answers right now.” Bobby said and Dean shrugged his wings a little. Cas gave a little wave and left their window to sit back in the car again. “Sorry Dean, I didn’t know it was you earlier.” Dean shrugged again and used one hand in a gesture to spill what he wanted to say. 

Outside of the truck Cas walked over to the driver's side of the Impala, not wanting to get back into the car again. He was trying to listen in but also not eavesdrop. Torn between wanting to know what was so important and a little miffed that Dean wasn’t saying anything. Dean knows that even if he mumbles, the others can hear so he's probably answering Bobby in head nods or shakes. Cas was trying not to be paranoid about it, after all, Bobby had known Dean for decades and they have their own history that Cas knows nothing about, and doesn’t really need to know. But at the same time, Castiel wants to know. Wants to help if he can, support Dean and this is all driving him a little nuts. What doesn’t Bobby want him to know? Is it about them together as a couple? Does Bobby think that Cas isn't trustworthy?

Sam could practically feel the tension from Cas so he just lightly bumped his elbow against Castiel's hands that rested on the rolled down window as distraction. “Probably nothing.” and shrugged. 

“I just want to help.” Cas admitted, knowing that the others might feel similarly left out. “Why does Rufus get to know and we don't?”

“Cassie, would you like to share with the class everything that you and Dean do privately?” a raised eyebrow quieted Castiel's queries. “Probably just some fatherly advice for when you ask for his hand in marriage.” Balth chuckled and leaned over to see Castiel's face better outside of Sam's window. “Or are you waiting for him to pop the question? Hmm?”

“I think we are waiting till after all this...” his hand flopped in the air like a dead fish. “Goes away to decide what to do next. We never really said anything about... that.” Castiel felt a tingle of fear and shot his gaze back towards the truck. No raised voices, or sounds of violence... Dean's not fearful of being hurt, but of something else. Worry. Worry now, not fear. Castiel's hands wrung in his coat sleeves. He found himself pacing and Sam's questioning look informed him that the worry wasn't strong enough, so, mildly worried. Not panicking like Cas is doing right now. He splayed his hands out on the top of the Impala and looked in at Sam, staring intently. 

“Cas?” now Sam sounded worried but not about Dean or what's being said inside the truck. “You ok?”

“Fine.” he said slightly clipped. “Just need a moment.” He turned heel and started walking back the way they came. Sam was out of the car in an instant.

“Cas? What's wrong?” He asked, long legs catching up to him in seconds. Rufus and Balthazar now looking behind at them. He could faintly hear Dean asking about what's going on. A small scuffle of movement and now Dean was perched on the back of the trucks bench seat, broken leg kicked out to the side and small body wobbling. Bobby's hands found him and stabilized the small dragon before he fell, but not picking him up. 

'Cas? Where are you going?' Dean called out loudly, wings flaring now and then for balance. 

Cas wilted at that. Dean was exacerbating his injuries just to see what was going on with him. What _was_ going on? Why the hell did he get ticked? It's not like they're doing anything to make Cas feel bad on purpose. They just wanted a private chat. Cas turned back towards the truck. Balthazar could tell that his friend needed him and he got out as well. 

“Cassie and I need to pee.” he stated bluntly and strode over to him and took him by his sleeve, leading him towards a thick clump of underbrush. Sam gave a thankful look towards Balthazar and was called to the truck by Bobby. 

Cas turned to see Sam talking with them now and stomped a little petulantly into the woods. 

“Cassie, talk.” Balth said. When Cas was still sulking he sighed and turned towards a tree and unzipped his jeans. He actually did have to pee. “Don't look, pervert. Just talk.” Balthazar chided and indicated Castiel's own tree to water. 

Cas went over but refused to piss on command, but he did voice his thoughts. “Like high school all over again. Don't sit at the cool kids table.”

“Breath.” 

“Don't tell me what to do.”

“Fine, don't breath, pass out and then you'll be calm.” Balth stated and smirked at the scathing look he received. “Now untwist your nickers and lay it on me.” Cas huffed angrily and unzipped his pants. That earned a belting laugh from Balthazar, “Not literally! Dean's the only one you should be 'laying _it_ on!'” one hand went to the tree to keep him upright from the laughing fit. 

Cas centered himself enough to start relieving himself. Once the stream started he said, “That's kinda the problem. I'm feeling left out. Bobby doesn’t want me to know what they’re talking about. It's probably about me. Or it might be, I don't know. Why? What do they need to talk ab-... I just don't get it.” his gaze went down and he aimed his stream for a knot in the tree. “I mean, I tell him everything. I told him stuff I only ever told you!”

“They haven’t given any indication that this is mind blowing information being shared. Who knows what they’re talking about, who cares? If it's important then Dean will tell you. If not then he wont, correct?”

“Maybe.” Castiel mumbled. 

Balthazar muttered. “Ok, drop drawers time.” he then took a few steps away and literally dropped his pants before squatting in the woods. 

“I am not doing that.” Cas stated. This behavior from Balth was hardly surprising. The whole college campus knew that Balth did what he wanted and whenever. Usually keeping it borderline tasteful and/or legal. Back then, it was the fastest way to get his friend talking, loosen up, and look at how ridiculous it is to be worried about things when all we are are mammals that shit in the woods. Putting stressful human experiences into perspective in the grand scheme of things. And that is, that no matter how sophisticated, or unruly, or pompous, or timid a person is; if there is no chamberpot, you poop in the woods. Back in college, it was 'wood' not 'woods' because there was really only the one tree on the grounds. And only first year students didn’t know to stay the fuck away from it. _Especially_ during finals week. Balthazar's methods of dealing with existential crisis' had spread and he had to find a new place to shoot the shit with Cassie. Usually it ended up being near the car of whomever was giving them trouble. 

Castiel shifted from one foot to the other, he chuckled at Balthazar, he really is squatting in the woods while trying to have a serious conversation with his best friend. Maybe he was making a mountain out of a mole hill.

“Atta Boy.” Balthazar coo'ed as Castiel took up a spot to defile, and release his stress behind a hapless shrub.

Castiel didn't answer, he just chuckled deep in his throat. After they were done and kicked leaves and dirt over the area Castiel informed him, “Did you know, I heard that tree on campus grew twenty feet taller in those 4 years?” he smirked at the look Balth sent him. “Just an FYI.” 

Balthazar couldn’t hold it in much longer and laughed all the way back to the car and truck. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title just came out of nowhere after I was done writing, then I did some cursory research on it and I think it kinda fits.   
> This is my smallest chapter to date, and that's only because I literally cannot figure out how to proceed from here to get to the book's climax so I just said 'fuck it' and am uploading it now so y'all don't have to wait even longer for it. Drawing a weeks long blank here.   
> I also quit one of my jobs since the last chapter was posted, and the transition to having more free time was dizzying. I went from 60+ hours a week to just 50 hours a week. So naturally I spend all my time reading instead of writing.   
> I also want to trade in my camper for a new one and researching that takes time. and life in general. mostly its the writer's block's fault for the lateness and shortness of this chapter. Sorry! at least some plot furthering action is happening!


	31. The Renegade in the Sticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the gang rest up in a small motel and are found by the local PD. It's up to Dean alone to save their asses.
> 
> Hi! This is a special chapter because it has a big side story that happens during the night Dean is sleeping in the nightstand. It's called The Dragon at Knights Inn, and it was just written for a contest that one of my favorite authors is having, Nightmares06. There are numerous au's centering around Sam being cursed to grow up at 4 inches tall. The Brothers Apart multiverse is Co written by Pl1 with their original characters. My dragon Dean activates a spell that makes every entrance turn into a portal to another universe with its own Sam's and Dean's. It deals mainly with four inch tall characters interacting with humans and one 100ft tall giant. My guys have to work together with their doubles to figure out a way to kill a monster and find a way back home!   
> It is finished with exactly 123456 word count. ;) Couldn't resist the challenge!  
> I hope you check it out! 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10249046

Chapter 31

The Renegade in the Sticks

 

 

 

“Ok, good news, bad news.” Bobby informed as he got another text. The others were silent, not sure which one they'd want to hear first. 

Rufus and Sam were with him next to the Impala, while Cas, Balth, and Dean were driving around in Rufus's truck, trying to find the hotel that must be in the small town. Rufus's memory of this town had changed since the last time he went through. Their cell phones wifi was spotty at best so they couldn't just do an internet search. They doubted a town this small would even have their motel listed online. At the moment, they'd be satisfied with a run down roach motel. Rufus vetoed the idea of camping out in the woods again for a number of reasons. First one being that, he just didn't want to. And rather then split up the group for the night or argue the matter, Balth volunteered his services for bed hunting, and Cas and Dean wanted to tag along for the hell of it. 

In reality, Dean felt a pull to the woods, he remembered hating camping when he was still human, too much like the training days his father forced on him and Sam when they were barely double digits. But now, the woods had their own charm. He couldn't pinpoint why, probably something in his new body's nature. He tried not to over think it. If he stayed too long in the woods, he was worried he'd loose himself over to Dane. Who wasn't all that bad per say, but he liked being the one in charge of the body. Dane didn't comment on the matter, and no one had heard from the hybrid for days. It was starting to look like that side was gone. For how long, or if for good, no one knew.

While the Drauglin side was more comfortable in the woods, Dean's human side had been bored to death of sitting and listening to Bobby talking to a half dozen hunters on the phone. He still felt very wary about other hunters knowing about him and inexplicably, his Drauglin mother. He wants to protect her, Cricket, but also, Dane. They didn't ask to be what they were, and he wondered if that thing Bobby was going on about earlier would affect Dane as badly as well. Dean shivered. That 'Plan D' of Bobby's was a hell of a thing that he was all to happy to shove aside for the time being until he had a moment to really think about it. There was no rush to decide, but he did give the tentative answer of 'yes', but only if that was the very last time they could discuss the matter. After-all, who knows what's going to happen tomorrow.

Thankfully, hunting down motels in small towns was a talent that Dean never lost, and helped Balth and Cas suss out a decent one, and then helped them pick out the right rooms to use. 'Ground floor, farthest from the manager's office, quickest access to where we're going to park.'

Castiel translated and Balthazar was sent in to book two rooms, four queen beds and a cot. There were just too many of them for one room and booking three rooms would attract more attention. It was likely that one of the hunters would take a watch at a time, so the cot was partly just for show. 

“How are you holding up, Dean?”

'Awesome.' Dean mumbled. 

“What's the matter?”

'Nothing... just what Bobby was talking about. Something that I hope we wont have to worry about.' he looked up at Cas's concerned face hovering overhead and waved his good hand dismissively towards the topic. 'Nothing to worry about yet. I'm so tired right now, otherwise I'd lay it all on you. But honestly, I don't really wanna think about it.' Dean sighed heavily and patted Castiel's hand that was acting as a protective wall. 

“Ok, Dean.” Castiel said quietly. His curiosity burned but he knew that it was up to Dean to tell him when he wanted to, pushing might make his boyfriend clam up entirely. His nerves were eased a little bit, knowing that Dean will most likely talk about it in the morning, and that it wasn't that bad if Dean was acting this nonchalant about it. His feelings were muted, most likely due to exhaustion. He was still injured and recovering must take a lot out of him, even if the medicinal cream was helping him heal faster. It's still Dean's body doing most of the work, but now it's being forced to do it faster then nature intended. “Rest.”

Dean yawned and rumbled, 'Don't have to tell me twice.' and settled back down, enveloped almost entirely by the Henley shirt nest and Castiel's soothingly warm hands. If he were more alert, he'd be aware of the fact that Cas was stroking his wings very carefully and slowly, massaging the muscles along his spine and then down to his tail. It felt amazing and he was asleep before Balthazar came back to the truck with two motel keys in hand.

Cas freed one of his hands and texted the others the motel's address and where their rooms were so that they could park the much more recognizable Impala in the back. They showed up less then ten minutes later with thoughtful expressions. 

“What's going on?”

“Best discussed inside, where are the rooms?” Bobby asked, already headed to the trunk to grab a few things.

“13 and 14, this way.” Balthazar said and opened up the two doors for the gear laden hunters. Cas waited just long enough for the 'ok' signal for he and Dean to enter. Cas cradled Dean close to his chest and used his trench coat to hide him better, glancing nervously left and right as if the enemy was waiting for that moment to strike. 

He claimed the bed furthest from the door and situated Dean's shirt-nest close to the headboard. “Nice room for the price.” he commented, nearly everything a shade of avocado or orange, a simple bathroom, with a tiny tub he noticed now that he entered the small room, and complementary shampoo, conditioner, body wash and note saying that they will have to call room service for no more then three towels, or other amenities. “Must have had problems with people stealing towels.” he read more, “They require that all towels be placed in the laundry chute before we leave, otherwise they,” at this, Cas nearly laughed, “they actually call the _cops_. For _towels._ ” Castiel turned the card over, “More information on rules and regulations.”

“Pity, I was going to add to my extensive skevy motel towel collection.”

“I’d laugh, but I’m pretty sure you're not joking.” Sam said dryly and got a wink from Balthazar for that. 

“I actually tell the truth quite a lot, people just don't believe me.” he gestured to himself, “Conspiracy theorist. Why wouldn't they believe me?”

“Alright kids, we got everything? Salt and cat's eye shells at the openings?” Bobby asked, using a grease pen to make a few temporary protection wards over the door and window. Keeping out the supernatural, one of the humans would have to break it to let Dean out again, for now, he's stuck in the room.

“Just about...” Sam said from his position at the window, adding his own sigils to ward off evil intent. It wasn't a 'cure all' sigil, just one to keep out those that intend extreme bodily harm. There should be no reason for one of their own to want to hurt any of their group, so it was aimed at anyone outside of their group wanting in. Of course, the backfire situation is, is that they wouldn't be able to harm the enemy either. If someone was simply stealing from them, they couldn't act with violence unless the sigil was broken by someone else that was non-violent at the moment. Sam looked over their group and explained it to them, knowing that Balth was most likely the most pacifist one among them, asked him to destroy it if shit went down. 

“Proud to be of service.” Balthazar grinned and bowed slightly. 

Once everything was settled, they stayed in the room that Balthazar, Castiel, and Rufus would be staying in. Sam and Bobby in the other room. Dean could choose for himself which room to bunk in, since he's small enough to fit on a table or nightstand and still have plenty of room in his nest. Even though Cas wanted Dean to sleep on his bed, he knew that it would be just too dangerous, like before. He could see that Sam and Bobby also wanted to spend some time with Dean, and rightly so, so he wouldn't put up any protest if Sam or Bobby took Dean to their room for the night. Cas had enough time with him as it was, and the others might like to hang out like old time's sake. His and Balth's chat in the woods helped clear Castiel's mind a little, how he was getting jealous to the point of panic attack for Bobby just wanting to chat with Dean in private. Cas knows that if he doesn't loosen his grip on Dean now, he'll just end up upset whenever Dean wants to spend time with his family. Maybe even resenting Cas for keeping him away from them. Castiel knew that it should start tonight, he will simply hand Dean over to Sam without a word so there's no drama or inner debate with himself. Baby steps. He can be close and intimate with Dean, but that's only if Dean's ok with it. Not guilt-ed into staying, or anything like that. 

Castiel wondered, not for the first or last time, if he'd be feeling like this if they didn't do the communication spell. The best way to lessen it's effects would be to insist that Dean stays in the other room, at least for that night. Clearing his head. Besides, it's not like they can do any hanky panky with Rufus in the same room... Rufus is the one that will be staying up most of the night anyhow so sneaking around wouldn't work at all. 

Since Bobby was up most of the night along with Sam, Rufus was the hunter to take the first watch. All that coffee he drank is still buzzing in his system and despite driving all day, he knew he'd be awake half the night anyway so might as well take first watch. Rufus's cot was set up at the only free space in the room, close to the door and kitchen area. He hunkered down and cursed out anyone that implied that he couldn't be on his toes while propping said toes up. 

Sam noticed the empty space and settled down next to Dean, checking up on his brother since it seems as though Castiel barely let him out of his sight. He had started getting worried that they are getting too close, distracted with each other. He knows that being close isn't a _bad_ thing, especially since Dean is basically helpless like that, but he also knows that getting attached that much can cripple someone in battle. Cas needs to be able to fight and not worry about if Dean is safe because if he splits his attention then neither of them will make it. Dean already knows what his limits are, and that his best chance of survival if they're ambushed that badly again is to hide, fly, or run, and let the others handle it. Dean wouldn't like it, but he'll have to do it. 

Bobby was on the other bed with Cas and Balth sitting on the other side. Sam noticed Cas send some quick glances at his tiny brother, but not as much as before. Sam wasn't sure if Cas could have put Dean out of his mind for five seconds, let alone five minutes of fighting. But now it seems as though he's making an effort to change that. His hands are fidgeting a little, like he wants to hold something but is clearly restraining himself. Sam made a soft sound of realization to that fact. Sam's not saying that he can forget all about his own brother just like that, but they've been hunting for so long, that there is a switch in a hunter's mind that gets flipped to get the job done and then when the threat is gone, tend to his partner if he needs it. It saved both of their lives more then once. They _never_ stop caring, but they do have to prioritize their actions if they want everyone to live. Proving they give a crap by taking out the threat for good. 

With everyone settled in, they talked about what they could do now. Balthazar insisted that they could trust his friends, Wes and Brandon, with putting pressure on Michael's men to end his hunt, by giving him bigger problems to worry about. Namely the FBI, when they plant some incriminating evidence pointing to his group being responsible for home grown terrorist acts. The burned down airplane hanger would be used as proof that he was working with explosives and operating under false pretenses. Whatever he claimed to be doing with all of the fringe scientists, could be used against him if it were rumored that he was figuring out a way to build a better bomb. And that he hated the United States for some made up reason that Wes or Brandon could come up with. Dealer's choice. With most of Michael's resources down, it would be easy to slip into his personal computer to upload some damaging evidence and then blow the whistle on him. Have the 'leak' be someone from the inside that 'changed their mind about bombing the buildings'.

It was a good plan, but at the moment, Michael was already being thwarted by the descent Ellen and her daughter Jo inspired in the group. They were with the group for so long, that they earned the respect from Michael's hunting party and pointing out that they were taking all the bullets for a man who slept safe and sound far away from the actual hunt. 

Bobby went on, “So now Ellen's busy making sure that the huntin' party Michael sent out thinks that he never intended to live up to his end of the bargain. That once the dragon was found, Michael had no use for 'em and intended to cut them off. That all he'd need were the scientists. Generally, eggheads aren't too keen on fighting like soldiers.” Bobby elbowed Cas and Balth in one move, “Present comp'ny excluded.” 

Balth bowed a little, Cas hid a grin. He enjoyed sparing with Sam the other day, and already felt up to another training session in the morning. Praise aside, he knows that he needs more practice and lessons before he can consider himself even a decent fighter. Ever since the first sparing lesson, he'd been thinking about what he knows of anatomy and adapting one with the other, what nerve bundles in a persons body he could strike with enough force to bring them down. Pressure points he could seek out specifically. It would be hard for his opponent to raise a fist to him if they can't feel their arms.

Bobby reached for his cane and said, “Welp, can't do much more about it tonight.” he slowly got to his feet and turned to face Balthazar, “Unless anyone's got a problem with it, I think it'd be alright if your Tecky friends helped us out.” Bobby lifted his eyes from Balth to the others, waiting for an objection. “The ay's have it, just keep the dragon's info on the light side. They don't need to know everything.”

“What can I tell them?” Balthazar asked, already reaching for his phone. Bobby lightly bopped Balth's knees with the head of his cane for him to stop. 

“Not yet ya Brit-jit. Gotta get a script for ya. This has to be done carefully. Understand?” Balth nodded and put his phone on the nightstand. “You can tell them you found a dragon, and that you want to help it get back to the wild. That it isn't dangerous to anyone, harmless as any other big dumb animal. That it's nice and what the bad guys want to do with it is simply too cruel for words. Hell, just list off some of the things they did to Dean in real life. That aught to get them on our side if they are as good as you say they are.”

Balth kept on nodding, “They are, my blokes are trustworthy and would never give over. They hate cover-ups for crimes above all, and this is a doozy of one. I think, that if they knew the dragon was once a human, it will set a fire under their arse's like no other. They can't stand to see people get caught up in things that might end up killing them and having the public never know about it. Bad enough bad things happen, but when it's on purpose and hidden? That the victim isn't even acknowledged?” Balthazar let that hang in the air as he felt his face get hot. Old raw wounds. He felt Cassie lean into him for wordless support and Bobby lay a hand on his shoulder. One look around said it all. Everyone here was perfectly fine with trusting Balth and his friends with more of the truth. 

Bobby squeezed the trembling shoulder briefly and hobbled towards the door. “Got my phone on vibrate so I might not hear it. Just knock on the wall if you need us.” Before he opened the door he looked over to Sam who nodded back. After a very long day of nearly constant driving, they all were ready to kiss a pillow. Sam wordlessly gathered up his still sleeping older brother in the shirt nest and situated him so that he was partially covered with a few layers of his long flannel shirts for the short walk to his room. Dean practically snuggled into Sam's still warm shirts, giving a contented sigh in his sleep. Sam paused for a moment, heard no objections or last minute comments, and left the room with Dean quietly. 

Castiel and Balth followed the sounds through the thin walls of Bobby and Sam entering their room and someone getting into the shower, the other hunkering down for the night. Rufus pulled over his shotgun and frowned at the two. “Well? Going to sleep or what?” 

Balth startled a bit before shoving Castiel off of the bed. Cas thought that a shower did sound pretty good and gathered up his borrowed cloths and headed towards the small bathroom. Balthazar opted to wait till morning. A small motel like this likely would run out of hot water, and he was usually an early riser for showers. Balthazar waited till the water started running before saying anything. A wry smile crossed his lips as he undressed down to his boxers. “Oi, Rufus, if that cot's not comfortable enough, we can always share. I'm not too knackered to deny you a wicked romp.”

Castiel could just hear his friend's chiding past the weak rush of water hitting his sore back, and knew Balth was just messing with the older hunter, and Rufus must know it too because he replied with, “There's only a few men I'd go gay for, and you're not one of them.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“ _Not you,_ that's who. Go to sleep.” Rufus adjusted the shotgun to a spot a few feet to Balthazar's left. 

Balth raised his hands and made a show of lifting up the covers and slipping inside. “Offer stands when Cassie falls asleep.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” Rufus rolled his eyes and angled the shotgun back towards the door. A few minutes passed in relative silence, Castiel slipping out of the bathroom again, dripping wet because he forgot about the towel fiasco, opting to get the worst of the wetness off with his dirty cloths. He sighed heavily. The shower was nearly pointless. At least he got the majority of the grime off and the fresh-ish clothes felt good. They'd need to do some shopping if he and Balthazar were going to wear more then borrowed clothes all the time. In the morning. Sleep now.

The room quieted down and Castiel turned restlessly a little before finding a good position to sleep in, wet hair splayed out on the pillow would no doubt leave terrible bed head but he gave approximately zero shits. Using his discarded over-shirt as a dragon nest replacement, he wrapped his arm around it out of sight of the others. They didn't need to know about his teddy-bear-like hugging. 

Ten minutes later in the silence, he heard Rufus mutter nearly inaudibly, “Dwayne Johnson.” and Cas smirked to himself. Yeah, 'The Rock' is a good choice for a straight guy's first homo-crush. 

Castiel choked back a laugh when he heard Balthazar say, “Knew it.”

 

Sam was unsure how to go about setting up Dean's sleep space. It was always Cas who slept next to the tiny version of his brother. He was still standing there, next to his bed with Dean's nest snuggled in his arms. Bobby stole the shower first so he was basically left alone to figure it out. Something so simple shouldn't be so hard. Sam walked towards the table and hovered the nest over it before shaking his head. Too far to reach if trouble came knocking. He then moved it towards the floor between the two beds so he'd be flanked on both sides with hunters and furniture, but abandoned that idea quickly when he saw how big his discarded boot was next to Dean's curled form. Sam's pretty sure that stepping on Dean would be far worse then anything his brother had experienced thus far. So Sam stood there, clutching his brother to his chest, heart pounding a little harder as he looked around the unfamiliar room at all of the dangers that could happen effortlessly and without thought. His gaze drifting around the room, searching for just _someplace_ to put him for a few hours. 

Sleep pulled at Sam's mind and he caught himself swaying a little despite his heart pounding out a worried beat. He was half asleep during the drive here, jerking his head and trying to focus on the road as he felt his head get heavier and heavier. Even though he and Dean had practically grown up on the road, Sam still sometimes gets road hypnotized. It's why Dean is usually the one driving. Having a conversation going usually helps keep his mind active, but with just Balth and Cas in the car with him, it wasn't the same. They kept quiet for the most part, making sure that they were paying attention to their surroundings, that no car or truck or damned helicopter was following them. 

Sam heard the shower turn off and jolted to the fact that he had been just standing there the whole time. Bobby opened the door, and left the bathroom wearing a white t-shirt and flannel pants. One stern look was all it took for Sam to keep his mouth from commenting on the fact that Bobby was dripping wet. Oh right. Towels. He's glad he wasn't the first in there. He glanced at the laundry chute and wondered if a towel managed to get stuck mid-way and how badly he'd want one if he showered. He hated motel showers, the sprayers were never high enough for his extra tall frame. Usually meant for someone only 5 ft 4, he had to basically fold himself in half to get his hair washed and at the moment, Sam wasn't sure if he could bend that way just yet. Sleep first, room service towels first thing in the morning. 

Bobby shook his head at the semi-glazed look in Sam's eyes as he stood there. Bobby reached forward and pulled Dean's nest from Sam's hands and nestled it in the crook of one arm, hobbling over between the beds and opening up the large drawer to the nightstand. Setting it inside, he closed it just enough to give the dragon a little room to get out if he wanted, but also keep him hidden if someone uninvited comes to the door. “Go to sleep, Sam. He'll be fine.” Bobby said with a hand on one shoulder and a gentle shove to Sam's bed. Sam nodded absently and practically collapsed into his bed, springs creaking and protesting the sudden weight. He turned to face Dean's drawer and his eyes drifted closed. His brother is sleeping in a drawer. What if he himself were that small... Sam got to thinking about that old book and movie series about small people hiding in houses. Borrowers? Littles? He's going to have to re-read them and maybe get a little better perspective of everything from Dean's point of view. What if Dean turns human again while he's still small? Then they'd all have to worry about him even more since Dean wouldn't be able to get around nearly as easily as flying by himself. Far more vulnerable without his hard scales, claws, fangs and spikes. A frail tiny human in a huge world. 

Sam frowned as he drifted off. Dean shouldn't be small anymore. 

As he drifted off, he thought of that spell that they used to shrink Dean, and the verbal reversal for it. Thankfully, they wont need another circle or ingredients to bring him back before it wears off. They might have another few days with tiny Dean, but if something were to happen, either he or Bobby would be the ones to say the reversal incantation. 

What was it again? Sam's eyes were closed and his mind replayed the words, mouth moving along in a barely audible murmur. A soft glow emanated from the drawer but no one was awake to witness it.

 

' _Sam?!_ ' 

Sam's eyes were still heavy but he felt a sharp pinch on his arm, he shoved it away and heard an annoyed huff and felt the bed dip a little closer to his face. He scrunched his eyes closed tighter, feeling the light of dawn starting to peek through the closed curtains. 

'Sam! Dammit! Wake up!' A growl that was a little louder then normal and a nudge from something blunt with fabric coming undone. The ends of it tickling his nose as the blunt thing pushed at his slack cheek. After a second the slight pressure left and he felt it again below his eye and semi-sharp points at his eyebrow, clearly trying to be careful at opening one of his unfocused eyes. 

Sam's muddy mind caught on one thought at a time as he figured out who was trying to wake him that conscientiously while using sharp things. His brother could only use the fingers he had, and it's not as if he has a choice in the matter, so he decided not to berate him on using claws so close to his eyeball. “ _Go back to sleep_.” he grumbled at his brother as he simultaneously opened up that eye so Dean wouldn't just poke him with one of his claws in the pupil. “ _Dean_.” The name heavy with tired reprimanding. The eye was released and Sam squinted, “Or Dane. Whichever. Go back to sleep, Dude.” He jerked his head away, letting the dragon fall onto his pillow and he turned over, mindful of the little guy so he wouldn't fall off the bed with all of the huge movements. He groaned loudly as he felt the sharp edged body scale up his shoulder and Sam paused his thought processes when he realized that it was heavier then it should be. Both eyes opened and looked to the side at the dragon perching on the side of his torso and slumped forward shoulder. The dragon settled a little more so that fewer claws were needed to keep steady. Laying down on the bend of his younger brother's shoulder and dipping his head down to the slightly upturned face below.

'Sam. We got a problem.' Dean stated. A cross between a fall and a jump and the dragon was about a foot in front of Sam's face, aiming the other way before turning around with some difficulty on the mounds of moving bedspread and his unwrapping bandages. Dean wriggled his bound hand a bit and nipped at the edges of the bandage that looked too tight on his forearm and hand. Finally getting a few sharp fangs under it, he was able to loosen it just enough to bite through the fabric. As more fabric shredded against his fangs, he was sighing with relief as blood flowed back into his nearly healed hand. 

Sam blearily looked on as he watched his brother now lean to the side and struggle with the bandage on his hind leg. Dean couldn't fold his body well enough so Sam shifted onto his elbow and reached forward with his hand, now seeing how Dean was larger then it. He hesitated his reach as his hand got smaller when up against the small dragon. 

Dean looked up at it and grinned. 'Thanks, Man, I can't feel my leg - this thing got so tight. I think it's healed well enough. Just get it off so I can think again!' he shuffled sideways, angling it towards Sam as his human brother pushed his body up towards the headboard to free up his other hand. As Sam worked, his mind cleared and he finally realized the reason the bandage was so tight is that Dean actually _grew_ overnight. Once it was off, he gently held it in his hand, moving the clawed foot up and down, side to side and checking to see if it really was better. 

'I'm fine now, Sam. It's just sore.' Dean rumbled, relieved. 'Ok, problem.' he looked up at Sam and said, 'See anything new?'

“You uh... you're...”

'Growing. Yeah. You know why? 'Cause I thought I was supposed to be pint sized for a few more days. Don't get me wrong! I'm actually thrilled that I’m getting bigger, but uh, this might be a problem. Right?'

Sam blinked at Dean, mind trying to process why the spell is wearing off early, and why Dean didn't grow to be his normal 30 foot height. “Uh yeah. Are you alright?”

'Fine. Fingers and toes are still tingling with the blood getting back into them, but other then that I feel fine.' Dean chirped and walked away a little so that Sam could get up. 'Wanna do me a solid and wake up Bobby for me? So we can figure this out?'

“Yeah.” Sam said distractedly. Part of a memory coming back to him. Just as he was drifting off he was thinking about tiny people in the walls and Dean's shrinking spell and he stopped stone still as he remembered the reversal. He must have said it out loud instead of in his head. “Fuck.” he hung his head and flopped back onto the side of the bed, making it jump a little and hearing Dean bounce and stumble. 

'Bitch!' Dean cursed and righted himself again. He strut angrily over to Sam's side and looked up. 'Little warning next time you do that?'

“Dean, this is my fault. I said the reversal.”

Dean stared at him for just a few seconds before shouting, 'Why on earth did you do that?'

“It's not like I did it on purpose!”

From the other bed they heard a sound similar to a grizzly waking up. “You idjits wanna keep it down?”

'Bobby, _Sam's_ the idiot!'

“He can't understand you, Dean.”

A pause, “But I can tell that that boy is louder.” Bobby threw his covers off and sat up, glaring at Sam. “Mind telling me why your brother is the size of a duck?”

'I'm not a duck!' Dean squawked. Wings curtly snapping out with disgust.

“Sounds like a duck.” Bobby barely concealed a smirk. At the looks he was getting he shrugged. “Sam.”

Sam ducked his head and fessed up, “When I was falling asleep, I may have said somethings.” Eyes going anywhere but the older hunter. Dean climbed over the blankets to slap the bare part of his leg, leaving tiny scratch marks. “Ow! _Fuck,_ Dean?”

'Sam. You suck.' Dean stated and opened up his wings to fly over to Bobby's bed. He landed a little rough but was relieved that Bobby didn't coddle him as he got to his feet again. Wings flapping a little to regain some composure. His body is heavier now and his wings would need to get a bit stronger. He saw the hurt look in his huge little brother's eyes and amended the Winchester way, 'Sam, this just means I get to eat your half of breakfast.' another curt wing flap. 'I am a growing boy.' with a smirk. Sam wasn't taking the bait. 'Look, shit happens. How do we fix this?' 

Sam knew that Dean was trying to make light of the situation for his sake and it made him feel just that much worse. He screwed up. He fisted the blanket in his hand and took a breath. He heard the others in the neighboring room start to stir. Crap. He's going to have to admit his mistake to everyone now. 

'At least I'm not so fragile as I was. Damn it feels good to be bigger then a damned rat.' His wings flapped again for balance as Bobby stood up and went to his duffel. 'Wait, how fast am I going to grow? Is it going to be in spurts or gradual?'

Bobby turned and squinted at him as he pulled on his pants. Sam getting the hint to get dressed as well as he translated all that Dean was saying. They were going to have company pretty soon. The shower will have to wait. 

Bobby asked, “When you woke up, were you still bite-size?”

'No, I was this big. I think. And who'd brilliant idea was it to shove me in a motel drawer like a dirty magazine?'

Sam pointed at Bobby and snickered. When he saw Bobby roll his eyes at the childish behavior Sam said, “It was either that or the table. Couldn't really put you anywhere else or else real rats and things could get you. The floor is out of the question, along with the bathroom being out of reach if someone broke in, and on top of the nightstand is too small for you. Already had the lamp, phone and alarm clock and enough room for like, maybe, a matchbox. Unless you wanted to sleep in one of our duffel bags...” Sam offered. 

'Bitch. I'm not some purse pet.'

“Never said you were.” Sam grinned, happy to see that Dean was happy to be bigger, even if he was roughly the size of a toaster with a long neck. … well, technically, he is a 'toaster' with a long neck. Sam chuckled and had to leave the room. Sam ducked back in after just a second to retrieve the Impala's keys for a food run.

'And I want the maple kind of bacon this time!' Dean shouted. Bobby was at the table, looking over the local map they got from the motel lobby. Dean tested out his sore leg and hand, walking around the beds' disheveled blankets and getting a feel for his formerly injured leg and hand. It could hold some weight. He remembered the warning Bobby gave Dane, overhearing bits and pieces when the dragon was taking the helm, but disagreed with it somewhat. He shouldn't have to rely on everyone to cart him around like an invalid anymore. The reproachful glare he got from Bobby for just that short flight between beds was unwarranted. It was just a couple of feet, a few body lengths now. He barely had enough air time to stretch his wings. Dean judged the distance between the bed and table and hoped that he wouldn't end up injured in front of Bobby as he readied himself for flight. 

Bobby's back was still turned when he said sternly, “Boy I know what you're doing and you better knock that idea out of your head right now.”

Dean stumbled a little and straightened up again. 'I wasn't doing anything.'

“I don't need to know what your saying to hear you lying to me.” Bobby turned his head just enough to send the message of, 'don't even think about it.' at the little dragon with just the corner of one eye. He nodded when Dean laid back down and pouted. 

'It's just the table Bobby, not like I was planning on crossing the ocean Amelia Earhart style.' His wings ruffled and laid at his sides. 

“It's just temporary, Dean.” Bobby sighed and went over to the bed and before Dean could protest, he slipped his hands underneath the scaled belly and lifted him up to his chest. One hand supporting the body while the other held the feet to keep them from dangling, and Dean from feeling like he's flying out of control. Dean was placed on top of the table and Bobby angled the map so that Dean could see it easier. “There's a few cabins for rent to the north. We might be able to break in. Which one do ya think would be best?” Bobby's hand indicated the few that were a bit further from the town.

Dean stared at the map for a second while he processed what he was hearing. He was getting so used to being carted around that he simply stopped worrying about not having much of a say in where they all went. Being reduced to something this small can do that to a person. He stood up and walked onto the map, looking at the areal features of it, and briefly wondering if he were his old size, if this is a sight he could actually see. The map was half areal photo with the roads and paths marked in different colors overlaid on the blown up photo. He unconsciously opened up his wings and flapped them a few times as he walked along the path the road took into the small wooded area. 

His wings folded back in and he sighed. Like he could get over his fear of heights when it was dealing with actual heights. An elevation that is reserved for proper birds, airplanes, and Superman. Dean smirked and thought that Batman was more his style of superhero anyway. Now in more ways then one if he's talking about literal bats. His bat-like wings twitched and he got back to the present when Bobby shifted his position a little. Dean got back to business and walked along the map some more, reading the descriptions of the different cabins and features. He shook his head. 

'No more cabins. They'll be expecting us to go to another one.' he said and using his claws, marked and 'x' over the word at the top, and walked off of the map again. He nosed around the table, seeing more pamphlets for the area's attractions and huffed a laugh at one of them. 'This one. If I don't stop growing up from fun size to _actual fun_ size, then we are gonna need a bigger boat.' 

Bobby slid it out from under Dean to read the cover. “Crystal caves?” Bobby shrugged. “You're the boss.”

At that Dean grinned before catching himself. 'Ok, so. Breakfast first, then we head to my new man cave.' he tugged on the bottom of the pamphlet for Bobby to put it back down and Dean struggled a little to open it up all the way while standing on half of it. Bobby was about to help, but Dean just waved a hand at him, he's got this.

A few minutes later they hear some sirens start to wail down the street and getting louder. Bobby limps to the window and nearly gets a face full of Sam as the tall hunter rushes into the door. Sam slams the door shut and eyes immediately go to Bobby's bed and then scan the room. Bag of breakfast dropped to the ground in his haste. His eyes land on Dean and the dragon stiffens visibly as Sam strides over. 

Bobby locks the door behind Sam and asks urgently, “What's going on out there? Sam!”

Sam just holds a finger to his lips and frowns as he walks silently to the table and takes off his over-shirt. He then lays the shirt down next to Dean who is already restless and worried about the sirens that cut off abruptly outside. The cops are parked just outside of the other motel room's door. Sam lifts his brother in his arms and puts him in the middle of the shirt and with one hand, lifts up the outsides of the shirt, laying them on top of Dean as his other hand is gently forcing Dean to lay down to be smaller in the middle. Sam shushes Dean intently and finishes wrapping him up like a Christmas present in his flannel shirt. Dean feels himself being lifted up again and hugged to Sam's chest as he's walking somewhere briskly. He trusts his Sasquatch brother with his life, but it would be nice to know what the plan was!

Dean couldn't help but trill nervously, 'Sam? I can help! I can hide on my own, you don't have t-!' his words are cut off due to the huge hand overhead coming down and pushing his head and long neck back down into the main part of the bundle, wrapping it up a little tighter. The pressure releases from outside and Dean's trembling reaches Sam who has to shove his feelings aside. The movement starts up again. Dean's heart-rate is going crazy. All he can do is listen to the shuffling of fabric and weapons loading from Bobby's direction and feel the thump of each footfall from his protector. Then other sounds greet his ears as he tries to keep quiet in case others are listening in. Some metalic whining and groaning and then Sam is holding Dean away from his chest. Dean's feet fumble for stability in the fabric cocoon, trying to find the edges.

“Be safe, Dean.” Sam says and pats the bundle. “Stay out of sight.”

'Sam?!' Dean _does not_ like the sound of that. Like he's _leaving_. The hands are moving away from Sam and something huge and flat greets his bound flailing feet and suddenly the angle of the floor is tilting away from Sam and the metal groans around him again. A sharp clang and he's suddenly sliding off of the floor and falling. Unable to see or feel anything besides the steep decline he's sliding down. 'SAAAMM!!!' he cries out but only hears his voice echoing loudly in the tight space. A thought flashes through his mind, did Sam just shove him into an air vent? But when he lands just a second later on something soft and yielding, he takes another guess. Everything outside of the scent of Sam and flannel, is of flowers, body odor, and stale water. A mechanical rumbling is heard on the other side of the space, far from where he landed and he can distinctly hear someone moving around in the room beyond his fabric cocoon. He waits till the footsteps disappear to kick and claw his way out of the shirt. Panting and scanning his dim, humid surroundings. 

He takes in the pile of white fabric stretching out around him, the stains on some, the detergent resting next to the bin and the laundry rotating in a washer not too far away. The laundry room. Sam shoved him down the towel chute. Dean was just getting ready to curse him out when he looked up to the sound of more fabric rushing down the rectangular cavern that stretches out directly overhead. 'Shit!' he hissed as he dodged out of the way of a large bundle of dirty towels before they smother him completely. He jumps down to the counter top and ducks behind a few piles of clean folded towels as the maid or whoever it is, is now loading up a dryer from a different washing machine. He waits and listens, past the roaring machines he can hear someone arguing loudly upstairs and the sounds of police sirens turning on again. 'Double shit!' he hisses past his teeth and wishes he could just climb back up the chute to the room they were all in but he'd never make it. The cops are already taking his family and friends away. At least it wasn't the military or the other assholes after them. There would be no warning. Just the sound of bullets entering their bodies to signal the end. Not like this, the lawman putting the end to their running with handcuffs and 'right to remain silence's. 

Dean jumped down from the tall counter, gliding out of the fall and landed close to the door leading out. His hand and foot pinged with pain for just a moment before he shook it off, favoring his other side and using his wings to help him walk. He had to wait to move several times towards the exit, because apparently, even though the motel was mostly empty, today must be cleaning day. People always seemed to be entering and exiting rooms and thwarting his escape attempts at every turn. He growled audibly and said, 'hell with this.' and launched himself into the air as one maid was entering his room. He screeched at her, flying towards her face as she screamed right back and ducked out of his way. He saw daylight and his wings beat harder, there were so many bystanders outside that he immediately regretted giving away his position just to get out of the building. Now there were 15 or so people out there, all gawking at him as he flew haphazardly past them. Still new to flying, he was having trouble navigating the breeze that swept over the short lawn and parkinglot filled with more people then he could handle right now. Hell, he couldn't even handle a single one, let alone this many with grabby handed kids!

He ignored their cries of surprise and alarm and made for the tight group of trees. At least there, it was less likely to get caught in their hands. Two of the onlookers were teenage boys and recovered their surprise long enough to start throwing rocks at him to bring him down. 

'Son of a bitch!' he cried as one rock missed him by millimeters. His flight pattern faltered and he lost some air that time, landing on a low tree branch. Well within grabbing distance. He scrambled up the tree, using his wing thumbs, hands and feet, and had to breath for a few seconds once he got a modicum of cover. The teenagers were joined by a lone police woman at the base of the tree. He heard her calling in the 'weird animal attack' and he got enough breath to roar down to her, 'Yeah! They _attacked me_!' knowing full well that she didn't mean it like that. The police woman pulled out a tazer and circled around the tree, the two teen boys flanking her like it was their duty to protect the woman from the beast. 

“Did you see that thing?!” One boy exclaimed with awe and the other laughed. “Wait till Troy get's a load of this!” and Dean sees a flash of light from below. _Fucking shit fuck_. They're taking pictures of him! Bobby's gonna be pissed.

“I’m gonna catch it and get like a million dollars for finding a new species!” the other boy said excitedly and Dean saw a long stick enter his area and bang against his branch. A few bits of bark flying off of both wooden poles as the stick banged again. Dean clutched the branch tighter, willing his body to recuperate faster. All of the noise and movement and adrenalin was making it hard for him to focus again. Panic leaking into his senses and thoughts. His lungs felt like they were on fire and his fingers trembled. Hunter's instincts telling him to go for a knife or gun with his Drauglin instincts telling him to set fire to the monsters and run. His body's too busy ignoring the facts that he can't do any of that at the moment. So the only thing he can do right now is to remain crouching, pressing himself as close to the tree as possible to make himself as small of a target as possible.

The cop was clearly out of her depth, wanting to protect the people from the thing in the tree but also seeing how scared it was of those people. It looked like a strange lizard but one that flies. Like the kid said, a new species, but from where? And how to catch and contain it without hurting it or anyone else? One of the Franklin brothers was banging the branch which had no effect while the younger one was reaching up to the branches of a neighboring tree. Attempting to climb up that one and probably reach over to the critter. 

“I got this officer Poppel!” The younger brother said and shimmied up the tree surprisingly fast. 

“Donald Franklin! You get down from that tree this instant!” she ordered and the kid froze. The critter looked down and around the area. Its wings struggling to lift. Donald's brother, Curt froze too at the order and dropped his stick, raising his hands up as if being arrested. Donald started to climb down and the animal was panting and squirming around in the tree. She wondered if it was injured from the landing. 

Donald backed up from the two trees and stood next to his brother, raising his hands as well. “Go home, boys. Let us handle this.” she said and was grateful that other adults were surrounding the tree now. Her backup wasn't going to come since they were tied up with the fugitives they were taking back to the small station. They called in every reserve officer for miles to handle the 'armed and dangerous' men that were staying here. She was ordered to stay behind and guard the rooms and vehicles until help could arrive to take pictures of the evidence and then take everything back to the station. Now she was the only cop left with a strange animal up a tree and scared out of its mind. She wondered if it had anything to do with the fugitives. There's never been this much excitement in all her years serving this town. But she had to press on, her responsibility to keep everyone safe at the forefront of her mind right now. Including the town's previously undiscovered local fauna – however strange and scared it might be.

“Come on down little fella, we aren't gonna hurtcha.” she cooed. Readying her tazer gun for a clear shot of the thing. Once it's knocked out it can be handled easier. Officer Poppel just hoped that it could survive the shock. She didn't have anything else with her besides her weapon, handcuffs and basic utility belt. Nothing in it would help her out in this situation besides the tazer and some help from the adult locals. “Mr. Harris, stay there, if it falls on your side, let me be the one to catch it.”

“All due respect Suzan, you are 90 lbs soaking wet, I got this.” Harris said and flexed a little. Some of the girls giggled and took more pictures with their phones. Selfies mostly, with the action in the distant background. So long as they stayed back. Harris flexed again and winked at the girls, showcasing how brave he was for going up against a scared animal.

She could swear she heard the animal groan at that. Then, a few grumbling growls with a few chirps mixed in. Now the thing sounded more irritated then scared and she saw its wings flex again. She thought it resembled a Fruit-bat for the size and wings but could now see its head and long neck. It moved a little ways from the main trunk of the tree and she circled around it again, tazer at the ready for a clear shot. It scurried up the tree, further into the leaves and obscurity. She saw Harris snap back to his task and ready a handful of rocks and look to her for permission. She frowned but nodded and he chucked the pebbles and rocks into the tree. She heard a yelp of pain and stopped him from throwing another volley, readying the tazer she saw it leap out from the top of the tree and take flight. She shot her tazer towards it but it dodged at the last second. Keeping clear of the lines and prongs of it. Flapping hard and headed away from them as fast as it could. 

“What the fuck is that thing?!” Harris demanded of officer Poppel and she just stared after it, shaking her head. 

“I have no idea.” she said and looked over at the people still gathered there. Seeing the Franklin boys with their hands up she strode over. “Can I see the photos?”

Curt and Donald hesitated but showed her the two photos they took of the thing. They didn't protest at all when she uploaded the pictures to her computer in the police car. The girls ran off when she faced them, taking their phones' photo's with them. She sent the Franklin brother's pictures back to the station and hoped that they’d have some idea how to deal with the creature. Animal control might not be able to handle anything like this.

 

Dean could only fly for another 3 minutes before his wings finally gave out and he landed clumsily next to a random house's shrubberies. Panting and seeing spots, he hobbled into the tangle of leaves and branches of the short shrub and collapsed. His lungs burned as they greedily sucked in and blew out air at a rate too fast to keep track. Damn he was hungry, and thirsty, and lost, and scared, and he didn't know if he should just stay here till someone finds him or he goes looking for his family again. His overwhelmed senses and instincts were going haywire and he found himself drifting off to sleep through exhaustion. 

He realized he may have had help getting to sleep as he saw Dane pacing about in front of him in their shared mind-scape of woods outside of Rufus's cabin. He was still out of breath and rolled over onto his back, looking up at the 30 foot tall dragon that huffed angrily at him. 

Dean spat out, “What? You got something to say? Say it!”

Dane huffed at him again. Sitting down and glaring. 'What the hell did you think you were doing?' before Dean could answer, he walked around the small human to look at him at the right angle instead of upside down. 'What the hell was that?! You nearly got us _killed_!'

Dean rolled his eyes. “Like you could have done better.”

'Yes! I could have! No, you were the one in charge, you thought, 'Hey! Let's get within rock throwing distance with strange bipeds! It'll be fun!' Dane growled and went back to pacing. 'Or were you thinking, 'Golly gee, I don't want to wait for Sam and the others to come back for me, I'm a super smart biped that can handle anything! Whoops! There's a lady in my way, lets just screech at her to get her to move and get spotted by a whole herd of bipeds! Whoopie! Laws of nature don't apply to me!'

Dean closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the disappointing glare of a Drauglin that he nearly got killed along with himself. He was reckless. He should have waited. “Hey. At least I got us out of there. There's no one coming to save us. You know why? Because they were _arrested_ Flame-brains! You know what that means? It means that they were taken away in a police car and are locked up in prison.”

Dane stopped his pacing, cocking his head a little. 'What's 'prison'?' he asked.

“Jail, the big house, Sing Sing, penitentiary, a place where you don't drop the soap and people like Sam and me do not pass go.” He jabbed his hand in the air over himself while he still laid down, catching his breath. It occurred to him that he was still technically in charge of the body because Dane wasn't out of breath at all. Their body is still out there, panting in its sleep. When he wakes up, he will still be the one to control it. Small favors. When he saw that Dane was just more confused, he sighed and used the one word that is an apt description for it. “They put our friends and family in a _cage_.”

Dane stopped moving, breathing and even blinking. The jaw dropped a little and he whispered a horrified, _'noo_.'

Dean took a breath and closed his eyes, nodding. He didn't have to see to know that Dane was now practically running around the little clearing, freaking out that he can't be out there and rescuing his family. Searching for an exit in this place with no doors.

“It's no use, Dane. They're out there, we are in here. The body has passed out. We can't wake ourselves up and even when we do, we can't rescue them. We will get caught and probably put in a cage ourselves. _Again_.”

'So what are we going to do about it? What can we do?' Dane breathed, Dean felt the rush of moist air on his face and he frowned again, cracking an eye open. Dane's worried expression breaking his heart. Something that big is looking to him for comfort, ideas, leadership. How can he say no to a face like that?

“We wait until we wake up. And then -” he paused for effect, “We get up and kick some ass.”  
Dane backed up a few steps to sit down, giving the hand sized human some space before dipping his head down 25 feet to squint at Dean. 'We wont make it. We are too little.' he said, considering their options. 'We'll die.'

Dean sat up and lifted his hand to the large snout that dipped lower to get within reach of the little biped. He patted it a couple of times. “Is that going to stop us?”

Dane grinned widely, the mouth taking up nearly all of Dean's vision but it wasn't scary at all, rather, it was comforting and welcomed. 'Fuck no.'

 

Inside the prison cells, they waited. Bobby was being questioned now that they were done with Rufus. Rufus was being kept apart from them in a completely walled off room so he couldn't tell them what the questionings were about, but since the cells were next to each other, the vibrations of Rufus rapping his knuckles on the wall came through to them loud and clear. 

It was a kind of Hunter's Morse code, with an added pause at the end of every vowel unless it would change it to a different letter, then it was an extra dot. Sam was rusty on his translations for it but at least they now knew that the police were looking for the ones that 'incited a riot' on the side of a highway when the police officers had been pulling cars aside suspicious of terrorist activity. At first the group had thought it was a regular traffic stop for speeders at the time, or perhaps someone working for the military or Michael’s group. They couldn't let themselves be brought in because Dean was inside the car's door, and would have died of starvation, been seriously injured, or captured if it was taken to the impound lot and thoroughly inspected. 

Balthazar started to wring his hands when Sam told them what Rufus was asked. Of course they were using fake names, but it was the facial recognition hardware he saw before they were ushered into the cell. He leaned forward towards Sam and whispered, “Sam. We found out who you were using just pictures of you and Dean. We know you pretended to be FBI along with Bobby, and the second they scan your face in that machine, they will know who you really are and there's not a lawyer in the world that can defend you. We are all fucked. There's not a doubt in my mind that Michael has mine and Cassie's face on every watch list in the country. Probably saying we are traitors or terrorists or God knows what.” His hands kept on flexing and his gaze darting to the bars of the door every few seconds. 

Castiel inhaled sharply when he realized that Balth is probably having flashbacks to his time behind bars for a crime he didn't commit. History repeating itself. He too felt like Dean must have felt being held captive. Only they were treated like people instead of animals like Dean was. 

Balth continued, “Tell me you have a plan. A method you hunters use to break out.” 

Sam shushed him and looked around the small precinct. This town was thankfully so small that the cells were within eyesight of the office desks. Just one locked cabinet of guns, rifles and gear in the far back left corner of the open space. Two clerks busy taking down notes on their group sat at two of the four desks, facing away from the cells and towards the only clear entrance to the building. Another lady was arranging camera and gear to no doubt take photos of all of their stuff back at the motel. Her work station was situated close to the gun cabinet but she was focusing on her organization of field equipment for compiling evidence against them. Evidence bags, portable testers, measuring tools and the like. If they break into the Impala and get her running, they would need a truck to store all the evidence in her trunk. Unless they had towed the vehicles to the precinct already... Sam had no way of knowing because until they were taken out and put in the interrogation room, no one was talking to them. 

They'll need out and fast before someone calls in the military and they put two and two together. If the wrong part of the military gets involved, they will likely be shot on sight or questioned where Dean is, and then shot or turned into experiments. Probably the latter. Why waste 'human resources'?

Sam didn't voice any of this of course, instead he indicated with a move of his hand that the keys to the cells were at the desk of the sheriff and all of the 'important' officers and deputy’s were probably around Bobby for the questioning. Short of torture, they wont be able to crack Bobby. They've been through worse things then what humans abiding the law can dish out. Hungry monsters don't ask questions nicely.

Castiel patted Balthazar's knee that started to bounce the longer they were in there. “It's alright.” he didn't elaborate, but the motions were appreciated. Balth calmed minutely and kept his eyes from roaming towards the bars all around them. “We get a phone call each, correct?”

“Maybe.” Sam mumbled. With small towns like this, sometimes due process is next to non-existent if they suspect you of terrorism.

“Then all we have to do is call up your hunting buddies. Get them to protect Dean. We can just wait here for Dean to grow big enough to take out this building.”

Balth spoke up, “But we don't know how long it will take for him to grow. Sam, what do you think?”

“Could be minutes, could be days. I don't know.” Sam sighed. “I honestly don't know what I'd prefer at the moment. I don't want anything to happen to Dean if he comes to our rescue, but I also want to be there for Dean to help change him back to human. He literally can't do it on his own. And even though Rufus recruited a few hunters, I don't think that they know enough about the spell to change him back. Bobby and I researched it for months. Know it backwards and forwards and all the alternatives.” Sam caught himself and changed topics before Castiel could ask about the alternative that Bobby mentioned. “In any case, we are no good to anyone in here.” 

Balthazar spoke up next, “I'll call Brandon and Wes, they could have some ideas how to get us out.”

“I can call up Meg, let her know the situation and maybe she can come look after Dean.”

Sam nodded, good ideas, “I can call up Ellen and Jo, maybe they can tell Michael that we are already out of the picture and it might throw him off the trail, or, he comes here himself to question us about where Dean is. He will have to break us out to do that if he doesn't want the whole world to know what he's after.”

“Who did Rufus and Bobby call?” Castiel asked and Sam nodded, rapping his knuckles on the wall connecting them to Rufus's side. Rufus tapped back.

“No one. They weren't allowing phone calls just yet. They want to question us first.” Sam explained and punched the wall. “Ok, FYI, my name is Sam Greenie, yours is what again?”

Cas squinted at him, catching his drift and said, “Tanner. Last name is Collins, my mother's maiden name.” he inwardly thought it was funny to use the same last name as that actor he looks like. He really needs to watch those movies with Dean to get his take on the similarities. Now there's a thought. He could say he's that actor and they are his entourage. 

Balthazar smirked, whispering, “Which name did you want? My female alias? My dealer's handle? My nickname from college?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Your 'real' name, Bart Cloud. There's no reason to use alias'.” He glanced around, looking for cameras and not finding any, but that never meant that they weren't there. “How is Rufus Red holding up there?” he said quietly, if there were camera's they might already know that they can talk to Rufus but there's no sense in broadcasting that fact.

Sam nodded and rapped it out, as well as telling Rufus to inform Bobby of his name, Bear Grills. Sam snickered a little at the response to that. 'Bobby Bear' just sounded a little too made up, so why not go for gold? Dean and Dane would know who's who the instant he'd hear the names. After all, Dane was the one that gave it to them. 

“Ok, so, now we wait.” Balth leaned back against the rough brick wall of the cell, trying very hard not to inhale the stench from the toilet area. It brought back a few too many memories. He sighed far longer then Sam thought possible for a human before asking, “Unless you fellas wanna play a game of 'eye spy'.”

Sam rested his head in a hand, elbow on his knee and looking out at the office. His eyes caught movement and shot wide open. “Hey hey hey, guys?” he stammered, trying not to be too loud or point but he might as well be jumping up and down with nerves or with joy. The outcome of this situation will determine the reason. “I spy with my little eye, a little freckled spy.”

The others were confused for a second but followed his pointed gaze just as they saw a light brown tail slip underneath a desk. 

 

Dean gathered himself as he took in the sight of the massive set of doors. There was no way in heaven or hell he could open them up and he felt so small and helpless. But he knew in his heart that he'd never forgive himself if he left his extended family to rot in there or be taken away to any one of their enemies. This was a stupid move, but one he has to make. His hiding place was in one of the too small patches of flowers close to the main entrance. The other one was clearly not used often enough judging by the thick layer of rust on the door frames. Waiting there for an opportune moment could take years. All of the windows were flush with the walls and too high for him to reach. He tried hovering long enough to sneak a few claws in but lost strength too quickly. While he was at one window, he heard Rufus in a room being questioned by a number of people in suits. The windows were frosted over so he couldn't see for sure, but there were two shapes doing the questioning and another four shadowy figures in the first room he looked into. 

Dean dropped down to the ground and rested for a second. He went to every window and vent and got all the information he could from them. He passed by one blank wall and heard a tapping sound coming from inside. He might not have detected it, but the hands doing the tapping were a third his size so he picked up on it easier then a passing human would. Rufus was back in one cell, and at least Sam or Bobby was on the other side to do the translating. He tried scratching and banging on the wall but no response to his sounds was heard. He was still too small. He grumbled at foot thick walls and moved on to the next opening. Turns out the only one that he could possibly use was the front door. Place was more secure then Fort Knox to someone as little as him. 

Finally, an opening! One of the male clerks was lifting a heavy box of paperwork and having some trouble opening the door to leave. He heard another person get closer, a few pleasantries later and he was scrambling between huge stomping feet, trying not to touch either of the clerks' legs as he dashed inside. He made for the first desk he saw and slipped underneath it to get his breath back yet again and to survey his surroundings. So far, it looked as though no one spotted him. 

He moved the farthest corner of the desk but keeping just far enough from the edges that were about 3 inches from the ground by its feet. Things he never really noticed before, or took for granted, is that most furniture makers take into account a human's tendency to move their feet close to things they're standing in front of. To keep people from stubbing toes non-stop, they simply designed furniture to allow enough room for feet to pass underneath. This made it easier for dropped things to get underneath and out of reach of course, but for Dean, helped give him a way to look around the office 360 degrees. He got the rough layout and finally noticed the placement of the cells across the room. 

His breath hitched for a second when he saw his family and friends behind bars and all staring right back at his hiding place under the dark desk. He crept closer so they could see him easier and he waved for them to knock it off. Sam gave him the middle finger and Dean just gave it right back. He was a little far away so he wasn't sure if they could see him clearly or not. Sam was trying to point to something overhead of Dean and he just shrugged at his brother. He was about to run towards a closer desk but Sam must know what he was going to do and made a 'stop' motion at him and again pointed upwards. All the while making it look to outside observers that he was just talking to Cas who had his back turned to Dean. Dean could tell by the stiffness of his spine that Cas was forcing himself not to turn around and look. It must be killing him. Dean frowned and looked up at the desk he was under. There must be a reason Sam doesn't want him to get closer. At least not yet. There was a light jacket hanging from the chair that was partially pushed in. Dean was just about to scale the chair when he saw Bobby exit the interrogation room and placed in the cell Rufus must be in. Sam was pulled into the room next and Dean cursed under his breath. He waited till the officers were gone again and climbed up onto the seat of the chair, struggling with the drawers that were 5 times bigger then him. Sam must know he can't budge them so it wouldn't be the drawers Sam was indicating. Dean moved on to look at the top of the desk. Ducking back every time one of the two remaining people shifting in their chairs. 

They moved around so much there was no way for him to take a proper look with them in the same room. He's not as small and unnoticeable as he was last night. 

 

“Dean can't get up there. Those secretaries wont leave.” Balthazar muttered to Cas, sliding over to where Sam was sitting and updating Cas on what's going on. “We will have to distract them.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Would you like to jail break trope it?”

Cas grinned, this was a game of theirs back in college. List how many cheesy tropes there were in films and television. He winked and said a bit louder, “It's a proven fact!” the photographer turned her gaze to them at the loud outburst in the quiet room. “If you have a television show that runs on long enough, you are going to run into some tropes!”

“In what way is it a trope?” Balthazar raised his hands, exasperated at his friends' idiocy. 

“Because everybody does it! You have a few guys being held captive and you need to distract a guard. What do you do? You ask to go to the bathroom, or demand a phone call or something like that.”

“So you're saying that doesn't happen in real life? That people don't demand phone calls?”

“Noo! Of course not, all I'm saying is that you can tell if it's a trope or if it's just something that happens in real life. Something that we've been led to believe happens. That it's not just TV magic that characters always use the same ideas to distract prison guards.”

“You're not making any sense.”

“Ok, say, I want to distract a guard, get taken out of a cell and then go all Kung Fu on his ass. What would I do? Demand to use the bathroom. But we can't do that here 'cause there's already a toilet in the room. So that version of the trope is out. Ok, next up, what if you claim to have an allergic reaction to something?”

The clerk had been listening in and nodding along. “Yeah, I've heard of some people claim the stupidest things to get out of the cell.” 

Castiel brightened his expression and pointed at the clerk, “See? Some people watch TV often enough and see the tropes and think that they can get away with it that easy too! Right?”

The clerk came closer, but not too close, and that caused all three of them to chuckle. 

“So what have you heard?” Balthazar asked, relaxing his posture to mirror Cassie's who was leaning against the bars. He quieted his voice as well, and the others subconsciously got closer to hear him.

“Well, what we are told is,” The clerk raised his hands and stretched them out towards the cell. “To always stay out of grabbing distance. And that when people are booked, they are asked, like you all were, if you have any allergies or medications you need to take, so we don't have anyone getting sick or injured.” The clerk explained and the photographer glanced around before coming over too, folding her arms and listening to the discussion.

She pipped up, “Usually the thing that every show does is have the two inmates start a fight that needs to be split up. But in your case, that wouldn't work since we would know that it's all being faked.”

Balth squinted at her, “So you wouldn't believe me if I said I hated this man's guts and wanted to kill him?” he leaned against the bars casually. He felt a tap on the rear of his shoe, and another tap on the one closer to Cas kept him from moving more then his torso to turn and look at Castiel. His action drawing their eyes up from the floor.

“No, we can see that you guys are friends. It's pretty obvious. And besides, talking about it before doing it kinda kills the moment of surprise.” she said smugly. 

Cas and Balth sized each other up and laughed, “This old fart would probably have a heart attack before I got one hit in!”

“Screw you Bart.” Castiel chuckled and waved off his friend. The both of the inmates slowly backing up towards the bench seats and sitting down again. “Ok, next time we get arrested, we wont talk about distracting the guards before distracting the guards.”

The clerk chuckled with them and said, “Probably not a good idea.” and waved a hand at them before sitting back down.

Dean tugged on Castiel's pant leg and looked up at what he could of the bent legs. Cas took off his over large borrowed flannel and laid it next to himself, draping down to the floor, and sat on a corner of it as Dean climbed up and into the folds of fabric. Cas couldn't stop himself from petting the coat. Making sure Dean was alive and well through touch. He gave a discrete thumbs up to Balthazar who grinned. They then continued to talk about other movie tropes until Sam was brought back into the main room and escorted to the cell next door. Right after, they came for Castiel who nearly had a heart attack as he got up, leaving Dean and Balth as the only ones left in the cell. Soon, Dean would be left alone.

Balthazar gave a little nod to Cas as he left and the photographer exited the building with her gear. This left just the clerk at his desk, busily writing away. Balth, being as silent as he could, sat next to Castiel's shirt and slipped his hand inside, startling Dean a little before feeling cold metal shoved into his fingers. He accepted it and lightly patted the clawed hand before gripping and pulling the keys out. Making damned sure that they didn't clink as he sauntered around the cell a few times. Making it look like he was just pacing to kill the time. He leaned against the wall and slipped his hand through, fit the key into the lock and turned it, hearing a click but nothing else to indicate it was the right key. He jerked it back out and into his cell again, pacing again a few more times, leaning on various walls. From what they'd seen so far, the questionings go on for about 15 minutes so going by the clock on the wall he has 3 minutes left. He found a similar shaped key and fit it into the lock, it click-clanked open and he pulled the keys back in again. Keeping the door looking shut, he saw out of the corner of his eye the clerk look up for a second before sneezing and going back to writing. 

Balthazar breathed out and pocketed the keys with the other similarly shaped one separated from the rest. No doubt, the key to Sam, Bobby and Rufus's cell. He'll need the hunters to fight their way out of this. He sat next to Dean who was still wrapped up and he lifted the shirt, making sure to gather up all the limbs and rubbing a thumb along one of Dean's legs to reassure him. The door opened silently and he walked casually towards the other cell. From experience sneaking around, it was always best to look as if you were supposed to do the actions. Anyone burgling person that kept looking over their shoulder, moving slowly, or too cautiously, was usually noticed right away versus someone strolling up to a door and opening it. 

So that's what he did. He strode out of his cell, over to the other one and unlocked it with a muffled yawn as if it was a burden to have to deal with the people inside. The clerk looked up when he felt someone behind him and then saw nothing else as he was put in a sleeper hold by Sam standing behind him. Bobby and Rufus stood on either side of the door to the interrogation room and waited patiently and silent as the dead for Cas to be escorted out. Sam removed the clerk to a side washroom, and took up the newly emptied seat, hunching over paperwork with a pen in hand. Balthazar was on the other side of the room with Dean still in his hands as he fumbled with the lock to the weapons cabinet. Dean wriggled out of his grip and landed on a nearby table to help free up Balthazar's hands for the task. Balth wasted no more time opening up the cabinet and tossing a rifle to Sam and then grabbed some more gear to take over to Bobby and Rufus. The metal door to the interrogation rooms opened up just as he handed the rifles over, and the older hunters wasted no time in knocking out three of the officers while the other two fumbled with their guns. 

Sam aimed his rifle and fired off a single warning shot over everyone's heads, shattering a light bulb that showered sparks and glass everywhere. Silencing everyone before a single word was said. “Guns down or I will blow your fucking heads off.” the murderous look in the 6 foot 4 hunter gave no leeway for argument. 

The ones still conscious raised their hands and Bobby disarmed them, putting their guns in his and Rufus's belts and making sure that no one got hurt. Cas strode over to Dean on the table and hugged him to his chest. Noticing that Dean grew larger then what Sam said he was. He was now about the size of a normal house cat and was busy hugging him back in turn. 

'You alright?' he chirped worriedly and Cas shushed him and turned his back to the cops. Covering up Dean again with the shirt so his presence would continue to be overlooked. 

“I'm alright Dean.” Cas grinned, patting the coat as the wings wiggled happily.

'Totally saved your asses. Did you see that move I did? Like a fuckin' ninja getting in here!'

“You did well.” Cas murmured as he felt a handgun shoved into the back of his pants. He frowned at Balth who just gave him a blank look to just accept the gun so they can get out of there.

'The car's are out back. Let's get the hell out of here, and forget about plans and discussions and questions and just go kill the bad guys.'

Castiel bundled Dean under one arm like a football, held up a powerful handgun in the other and raised it. “Sounds good to me.” he looked up at the front door and found the others finishing up cuffing the cops and locking everybody into the walled off holding cell. Their backup would arrive to let them out too soon, so everybody filed out of the police station and into the impound lot like a well oiled machine. They were on the road in less then 5 minutes. They were tired of hiding. Now they are seeking.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my lord, writer's block is a terrible thing.  
> The battle will start within the next three chapters. (now that I've said it, I *have* to do it! - lighting a fire under my ass. before I write another word for the battle, lower your expectations by like 50%... or 75% I just want to go back to Shenadragons! )  
> I've been putting it off for too long, now that Dean's getting bigger again, we can commence the bloodshed!  
> The title to this chapter is pretty accurate and I wish the books' chapters can be as long as a songs lyrics. Ya know? there's just so many great songs out there! There were a number of alternate titles, but this one's great. The next chapter will have Dean about the size of a horse again. From my Little Pony to Clydesdale to war horse of the apocalypse! And did I ever mention how much I love comments and kudos?  
> ;) love you!
> 
> Don't forget to check out the side story that fits into the middle of this chapter!  
> The Dragon At Knights Inn
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10249046


	32. Donuts, Dogs, Dickheads, and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen and Jo to the rescue! They help take out one of the three big bads by being their awesome selves.   
> Cricket and Meg have a heart to heart and Dean comes face to face with his oldest foe.

 

Chapter 32

Donuts, Dogs, Dickheads, and Dragons

 

 

 

While they were all at the small town's police station, other players in the game were already in full attack mode. They couldn't wait for any additional information or orders, so Ellen and Jo took Michael's group into their own hands. The whole thing happened faster then anyone had thought possible. After that failed ambush at the cabin, tempers rose dramatically in the hunting party and someone needed to be blamed. Their quarry was in the wind and the opponents being fellow hunters, they knew that it would be very hard to track them down again. Ellen posed the simple question of what would happen if they did manage to catch the dragon? What would Michael _actually_ award them with for the catch? They were ordered not to kill the monster – which by itself didn't sit well with a _hunter's_ instincts – but also to turn over all of the evidence of literally _everything_. From the moment they were contacted to the second the dragon was handed over. No one would get any proof that they were able to take down such a formidable beast. Bragging rights were denied. It's not like monster hunters broadcast their successful kills to the general populous, but to be gagged from telling other hunters of the greatest hunt they've ever been on, was just another thing that they loathed about this job. Then, the ambush failed, and many of the hunters were humiliated when they found themselves caught in simple and harmless, 'stay put' sigils spread out all over the woods. A few of them took a bullet, but thankfully nothing serious, all would recover in time. They were pretty sure that none of their targets got hit however, and that added humiliation was grating on them. All of their armed men and women, firing shots from 300 degrees or so, and they took more hits then their opponents who had untrained civilians in tow. They didn't even have the big dragon with them! 

Hunters in a bad mood, plus failed hunt, plus working for a non-hunter asshole, equals a basically guaranteed mutiny. 

Ellen fanned the flames with supplies from a late night alcohol run, and watched the hunters fume at their soon to be former boss. Encouraging them to not just vent their frustrations, but build on them against the one man who put them up to this. 

It was actually ridiculously easy for them to incapacitate Michael and his non-hunter group. Ellen and Jo had done well at banding the hunters against Michael, and silently urging the non-hunters to revolt as well. 

Jo kept on giving their position to Dean's group so they knew where _not_ to hide. Once the boys were a safe distance away from the small town that had temporarily incapacitated them, Balth had told Wes and Brandon about what was really going on and they were all on board with the plan to take down Michael financially. However, before they could send out the 'hot tip' to the FBI terrorist watch organization, the hunters working for Michael fully revolted. Guns firing, scientists running, and now, Michael himself is in hiding. Having escaped the labs that he had his crew retreat to after the hanger went up in flames. Now, he had nowhere to turn, and abandoned all ties to all of his former employees lest they turn on him and reveal his location to the hunting party that was out for his blood. 

Apparently treating his employees poorly doesn’t suit trained killers of monsters. He may have gotten away with treating normal scientists and civilians less then stellar, but when it comes to hunters, you treat them with the highest respects or else feel the wrath of the entire community, with the knowledge that no one could ever find the body.

So now, much to Cas, Balth and Dean's dismay, they were not able to take their own personal swing at Michael. Coward. At least Michael's former supporters are thinking twice about remaining loyal to him. All by himself, he has little to no power. The hunters made sure to spread the word about Michael's foul deals and to stay back or be considered an enemy as well. Many of the community that weren’t privy to the situation simply trusted their fellow hunters assessment and gave their word to keep their hands out of it. 

That's not to say that the hunters wouldn't be going after dragons ever again, but at least at the moment, they were more focused on retaliating over being screwed over by Michael. Dean's family would still have to watch their backs, but at least it wouldn't be against so many organized hunters at once. They only needed to survive for a few more days before the equinox. With so many others to worry about, it was nice to have a little bit of breathing room, even if Cas and Balth sorely wanted to put their kicks in against their former boss. Not to kill him exactly, but to teach him a lesson about how to treat people and animals (and dragons) with respect. 

At least it was one major foe down, they now just had to worry about bigger, more violent, enemies. Wes and Brandon were now focusing on finding Azazel and through him, Alistair. The two conspiracy theorists wanted to take them out for just hearing about what they did to Dean, but promised that they will share this major asshole hunt. They were more then happy to hear that dragons and therefore monsters were really real, before sobering up to having it as an unquestioning provable fact. One phone call filled with dragon speech in the background, and few photos of Dean that Sam had taken with them around the campfire, was enough for Balthazar's friends to see that even though the dragon was real, it wasn't like the lore at all. They trusted Balth's assessment of the monster and respected their plight for help. The two of them couldn't say no to their friend because Balth had done so much for their small gang and almost never asked for anything in return. This was a big favor, but Brandon and Wes knew that it would determine who they are as people, and not just members of the group. Could they ignore the plea for help? 

They were determined and set about searching for likely places that Alistair and Azazel would be. Giving the boys heads up if or when they hear of the bastards. If they found themselves a minute, they actually had some fun with the information the group gave them about that secret government facility that had the dragon's captive. Figuring that they could have their own team of Conspirac-E-Terrorists on the task of exposing the place to the public. Put pressure on them to hide better so that the soldiers couldn't easily make a move against them. It would have to be timed just right with Dean's groups actions so that they wouldn't get caught up in a backlash. If Wes and Brandon told everyone where the facility was located, and what it really held inside, there would be a swarm of cameras and recorders at the gates. Making it impossible for any of their guys to sneak in and retrieve the mother safely. 

It was true that they would need outside sympathizers if all went to hell, but there was no telling who all would be lying, agreeing with plan of setting the dragons free, just to get their own chance at capturing them. The dragon's deserved better then that. 

Word was spreading fast in the hunter community and Bobby hoped that the debate over whether or not Dean deserves to be treated like a human or like a monster would be settled long after he was, what Dane called them, 'biped' again. For now, they were updated on Ellen and Jo’s missions, making sure no one from the hunter group decided to hunt Dean by themselves. And trying to find a quick and stealthy way to reach the military base that the mother's being held at. 

 

Meg was walking on egg shells for days now. Security was beefed up the second they heard a rumor that their opponent Michael was about to be taken down by regular monster Hunters. They did not interfere, and were pleased and concerned when it finally came about. They weren't scared of Michael, but he was the one that had the most blackmail on the military's organization, and their separate hunts for Dean were almost like a test, or bet between them to see which one's the better hunter that's not officially a 'Hunter', capital 'H'. 

Turns out they both suck at it.

Their prey is still out there, getting stronger, larger most likely now that it can hunt as much food as it wants, and picking up 'strays' to help in their fight. It went from two of Michael's men helping the dragon to dozens, going by what the rumors were about Michael's own men turning on him. What was supposed to be an easy search and recovery, was now turning into a fiasco. There were no more volunteers in their military ranks to aide in the search, and the ones already in the field were exhausted. Even the ones pretending to search were tired of it all. Coming up with new bogus but legitimate sounding reasons why they still hadn't found the monster was almost as tiring as scouting forests for hundreds of miles in every direction. Just wanting to go home and forget about it. 

The squads were no more eager to find the hostile beast as they were before. Michael had a good plan to use Hunters, but his mistake was in denying them their rewards. Of course it was too late now for the General to bribe any Hunters, now that they were banding against the more powerful organizations on principle alone. Most Hunters don't do the jobs for money. The ones that went with Michael were lured in by it, but soon went back to their respected ways. After all, when they dispose of a werewolf or El Chupacabra, they aren't in the habit of selling the hides, or waiting around for someone to offer money to take out the threats to the unsuspecting public. A town could be decimated before the citizens knew something supernatural was happening, and then in that time, another town overrun before the survivors find someone able to take out the monster. Hunters don't ignore uncontrollable monsters, they research, prepare and take care of the problem before more innocent lives are lost. Michael tried turning them into hired thugs.

A heated message was sent the General's way before he even had time to come up with a pitch. It was something along the lines of, Hunters are not mercenaries. They hunt evil, and are not for hire. If anyone tries to make the honorable hunters into attack dogs, they will salt and burn the hand that feeds them. Of course, it was given with much more colorful language and examples.

Finally, the General had enough. When Michael went down, he knew he could be next and needed to get rid of or capture the rouge monster before it decided to take his revenge. The determined General went down to the holding cell that housed one former monster hunter named, Gordon Walker, and decided to wake the big beast up. 

The holding cage for the male dragon was located on the other side of the mother's. Passing down the long wide hallway, he gave a quick glance through the two way mirrored wall. Confirming to himself that the mother was still sleeping soundly, and that the caretakers were doing their job. She was woken up from her deep forced hibernation, but at the moment, chose to rest. The stress on her body after that day was to great. Her handlers warned the General about putting her under too long and often and he reluctantly listened.

But, there would be costly precautions put in place now that she was awake and alert more then usual. One being the only entrances the dragons could use now were the ones in the ceiling. Shortly after the failed attempt at breeding the two dragons in his possession, the General realized that if they banded together, they could have easily escaped Eve's cell and made their way to the surface through the original massive hallways that they traversed getting them to their cells. So, the General had ordered several thick walls to be placed at intervals to prevent a potential escape that way. Even if the two full grown dragons worked together, the General was assured by the construction crews that they could not break through the new dragon-fire proof walls. During that time, the dragons were kept in the deepest of hibernation, bordering on death, to make sure that the construction crews could work to rebuild the ceilings of the cells. A latticework of silver bars and electrified cable netting was built into the overhead doors. Any attempt to escape on their own would result in burns from the silver, as well as electric shock from the cables that would fall on them like a net. The electric current wasn't strong enough to kill, but incapacitate until they could inject the massive beasts with more of the knock out herb. During that time, they'd have to set up the net again, which still takes time, despite how much money is involved.

It had taken only a few hours to teach the two dragons about how futile their escape attempts would be, and to behave for their own well being. Eve's nearly perpetual state of hibernation was taking a toll on her mind and body. Because it was not natural, they had to figure out a way for her to get some kind of exercise or else she might waste away. A few weeks ago, they let her wake up fully to check on her health and mental state. She paced for nearly 3 days, refused to drink or eat the meat that they brought, and whimpered at anyone that got too close to her cell. They had trouble with using silver rods as a training tool. Trying to train her using minor pain as a motivator in a far less cruel way that Azazel had done to his dragon. It failed _completely_.

She quickly came to the conclusion that _everything_ made of metal would burn her. She refused to touch the steel food and water basins and other regular metals making her behavior hard to predict since half of the things in the room were metallic or shiny. It was especially challenging when it came time to sedate her again. She went wild inside the cell, leaping from the large syringe and wailing every time she touched the bars as if they burned her, working herself into a frenzy. Expecting all metal to hurt, triggered that reaction in her mind as if it truly did. The hopes of training her dwindled every day as they watched her slip into paranoid madness. If any metal was seen on the scientists, she would assume they were there just to hurt her. They wanted to find specially made plastic tubs large enough to substitute for her water and food dishes, but by that point, she simply refused to touch anything at all besides the floor and one concrete corner of the cell. 

Whatever behavioral or intelligence tests they intended, were useless now that they broke her mind. A scared animal in a lonely cold cell. Animal experts were at a loss for what to do now. Nearly everything silver was taken away, and would only be used in case of emergency. They lost what little trust was built. She starved herself, believing that they would try poisoning her next. 

They couldn't figure out how to teach her that she wont be harmed unless she tries to escape through the ceiling. When it looked as though she was giving up on trying to stay alive, they needed to act quickly, but all attempts to reassure her were met with extreme skepticism, and reactionary violence. They were forced to back off and let her calm herself since anything they did made her even more agitated and jumpy. A good day was when she stared off into the wall, or chose to sleep instead of move. They had originally planned on building a window in the ceiling for her see outside again. Too small for escape, but enough to give her some taste of freedom. Give her something to boost her emotions, something more familiar to her. Of natural light that wasn't from a florecent bulb. Air that wasn't filtered twenty times a day. In order for them to be able to construct a window and not put her into hibernation again, meant that she needed some kind of restraint. A harness strong enough to keep her away from the crew. However, seeing as the sight of chains coming at her would probably put her into a catatonic state from fear alone, they gave up trying to improve her emotional and mental state. For the time being at least. 

Since they had no ideas how else to improve her mood or mind, they basically ignored her, kept her in storage more or less like a living DNA sample. A far cry of the wondrously strong and indomitable beast that once sent the bravest soldiers to their knees in awe. They had forced themselves to start at square one and hope that there was still a foundation to even _start_ from. 

Several people were assigned to simply sit with her, talk to her, and hope that she will become less fearful towards the humans. Some of the people there realized that Eve seemed calmer when one of the ladies in food delivery was nearby. Eve would actually slowly and cautiously uncurl from her fetal position and gaze at the short brunette lady until she was finished serving the drinks, snacks, and meals and leave. Eve would be silent through the whole event, and watch her go with a hopeful expression hinted in her eyes. The door would shut, and she would sigh miserably and go back to her curled up depression. 

Meg had just finished up serving the crew their simple meals and was heading back to the kitchens to unload the uneaten pastries, when she found herself face to face with one of the lab technicians, and was asked if she would take his Comfort Shift with the dragon. 

“It's only for today, and you don't have to do much.” He explained, leaning into the wall. 

Meg shifted her weight, bringing the tray of snacks to rest on her other hip. “What are you gabbing about?” she said somewhat tiredly.

“Eve responds to you. We haven't figured out why she likes you so much. Do you know?”

Meg's heartbeat started going faster, did they know? Were they watching her visit with Eve some nights after everyone else had gone home? She kept her thoughts to herself with a mask on her face of mild irritation instead. “No idea Sugarplum. Now if you excuse me?” she made to keep on walking past him. Thinking about what they would do to her or the dragon if they found out the truth of why she's working here. 

“I'm sorry Miss Masters,” Now the twenty something looked a little sheepish. “It wasn't really a question. My boss told me to tell you to do it. Figures they can't do it themselves.” he sent a glare at one of the security cameras in the hallway. “Make me do their job.” he grumbled and brought his eyes back to her very small frame. “All you have to do is sit just outside of the cage, as far or close as you feel comfortable in the same room with her, and just talk. It doesn't seem to matter what you talk about, she probably can't understand us at all, even after all this time with her. The boss wants her to see that not all people are bad and want to hurt her. Since we aren't having any luck, they think you might. She will actually look at you.” he gave a laugh, “More face time and recognition then she does for us!”

Meg sighed dramatically. “Fine. When do I start?”

“Now actually, would be a great time. If she responds to you in any way, don't freak out, just uh, go with the flow. If you can get her to eat something on her own that would be awesome but we aren't expecting you to get her to do anything. She's been on a feeding tube for so long we don't know if she remembers how to eat on her own.” he frowned, genuinely upset that the female dragon had sunk so low into despair. “I hope she comes back from this pit shes in.”

“Tell me about it.” Meg said mostly to herself, referencing the place more then the state of mind. If 'Eve' was free, that would improve her mental state a hundred fold. “Ok.” she said, shifting the weight of the tray she carried, it looked as though the guy wanted to help her out by taking it but she gripped tighter. “This is for her. You said you want her to eat? Let's give her something worth eating.”

“She's a carnivore.”

“That can eat other things too so long as they are in small quantities. Trust me.” she winked and walked down the hall towards the cell.

The lab technician cocked an eyebrow at that. No one told him that Eve could eat anything but meat. He shook his head and went towards the back door where his impatient date was waiting for him. “Got my shift covered baby. Shall we go?”

“Aren't they going to notice you missing?”

“Nah, I turned off the cameras all the way down the block. No one even looks at them anyways since Eve doesn’t do anything. 'Sides, Megan's got this. Might be good for the dragon to see someone new.” he said confidently and ushered the lady towards the parking lot. “Now come on! Don't want to be late.” he ushered her into the parking garage and left for the night. 

Meg looked around and was surprised to find no one at all in the area. It was close to the time for the change in shifts so she counted that as a win. Since Eve didn't do much, she was left alone most of the time since no one wanted to sit in a room with nothing to do but watch what might as well be an ebony sculpture of a sleeping dragon. Meg found her to be beautiful. She knew that hidden inside, deep down where even Eve might not see yet, lies the strong woman that she was in the past. Meg never could confirm it, but she hoped that Eve had once been human because then she might be saved. Human psychologists know how to bring some people back from traumatic events but no one knows how to treat a dragon with depression.

“Hey, old girl.” Meg greeted her like always. Running a hand on a bar and grinning at the twitch in a side fan ear. 

Eve inhaled and exhaled slowly, another fan twitch and another deep inhale, sniffing the air, she lifted up a heavy eyelid and blinked for a few seconds. Sniffing again, her other eye opened up eagerly too and she lifted her head to look at Meg who was now setting the food tray down on the chair closest to the cage. 

“There she is. That's my girl.” Meg greeted, standing just outside of the metal bars.

Eve angled her head to the side to look at the two way windowed hallway and squinted. Meg wondered if Eve was able to see through it. Eve gave a very slight shift in her head and neck as if double checking before looking back at Meg and uncurling a little further. A soft rumble greeted Meg right back. 

“Yeah, we are alone again.” Meg confirmed, turning around and pulled the chair with the food closer to the bars. Eve surprised her and got up from her corner and stood there for a second. The food nearly spilled everywhere as Meg nearly jumped back from the sounds of claws on concrete. 

Eve must have been waiting for Meg because after Meg stood still again, putting the chair in-between them, Eve took a step closer, nearly buckling at the elbows since she was unaccustomed to walking now. Her wings slammed into the ground on both sides and she winced in pain. 

Meg was torn, she wanted to help Eve but there was nothing she could do. She was smaller then Eve's hand and could probably stand upright in Eve's mouth with arms stretched over her head. “You ok, Sugar?”

Over the course of her time spent with the dangerous bipeds, Cricket learned a little of their speech. It was agonizingly slow to learn since they hardly took the time to speak slowly towards her. Usually barking some sound or other and looking for her to obey. Obey what command, she didn't know since it seems as though no matter what she does, they threaten to punish her. So she just gave up. Finally, they would leave her alone and stop trying to get her to do things. They sat with her, but that was it. She could tolerate that a little. Not like she had a choice in the matter. And then there was the curly black haired biped. Her name repeated by other bipeds enough to learn that it was Megan. But Megan had called herself a shortened version of that name. Meg. And for some reason they named her Eve. Probably short for evil. That word was used a number of times, though, she didn't see _herself_ as the evil one around here. 

Cricket didn't hear any other bipeds around and this meeting with Meg felt different then the other times. Usually Meg would give off this scent of worry and love, and she knew it was sharpest when Meg was looking at her. Cricket scented it from others, but not nearly as personal. Meg genuinely cared for her, and Cricket needed that these days when it was hard to go on living. It would be so easy for her to end her own life, a quick flash of teeth in the base of her neck and she'd bleed out. Different methods were thought about more and more lately, but what stopped her was the fact that Meg still cared, gave a damn. Cricket didn't want to leave Meg alone in this place, as it seemed as though the shorter-then-most biped was lonely and scared herself. 

“Sorry, you startled me. How are you feeling?” Meg asked and motioned to the dragons stiff movements and quivering legs. 

After observing Meg and the other bipeds so much, Cricket got the gist of what she was saying. She licked her dry elbows and moved them without them literally creaking. The scales were overdue for a shed but she just didn't have the energy for it. She dipped her head down and grinned at Meg in a way that was reassuring and thankful for the concern.

Meg still found it amazing that no one else knew just how intelligent Eve was. It was like they were stuck thinking about the huge black dragon as an animal and not a sentient being. “Yeah, me too.” she said and made a show of stretching out her back and limbs. “Long day. This place is huge and everyone is always hungry.” she chuckled softly and added, “I don't know why some people don't like the cafeteria. It's not like it closes too often, and the foods not that bad.” Meg gestured to the outer doors and sighed, “Oh! Speaking of, got you something better to eat today.” she grabbed the tray again and noted that Eve decided to sit down again. Probably tired of standing for just that short time. She acted more and more like an old grandma then a dragon in her prime. 

“Don't worry, I can deliver.” She said and gripped the edges of the tray again and eyed up the bars between her and the fang filled mouth that breathed a little heavily for the exertion. She hadn't really entered the cage yet. Usually sticking to the edges with Eve in the corner. Today, Eve must be tired of hanging back. She held her breath and entered the cage. 

Cricket's eyes widened and she stiffened up what she could of her body, the rest trembling with nerves and aches. Meg was slowly getting closer with biped food. It smelled amazing and different but soon it was drowned out by Meg's scent of rising fear. She could guess why. Everyone else treated her like a dangerous beast, it was no wonder Meg would be fooled into thinking that too. Cricket lowered her chest down between her forelegs and lowered her head, rumbling a purr to show that it wasn't an attack stance this time. Meg's heartbeat increased and Cricket had to stop herself from getting frustrated at the small bipeds unfounded fear. She would never hurt the little girl. 'It's alright Meg, you are safe here.' she rumble purred.

Meg slowed her walk and cocked her head to the side. From dealing with Dean in the past she knew Eve just said something but had no idea what, just that it sounded like it was meant to be soothing. Meg grinned and held out the metal tray.

The second Meg's bracelet clinked on the tray, Cricket flinched. It was metal! She jerked her head to the side to avoid contact with the tray and Meg and even the area where she stood. A betrayed sound was choking her throat and she scrambled back. 

“What?! What are you...” Meg trailed off and cursed herself for the mistake. Metal. “Honey, no, no this wont hurt you, this is just cheap aluminum. Harmless. I'm not gonna hurt you. This isn't a trick.” she was torn between throwing the tray outside of the cage and approaching Eve and proving that it wont hurt. 

Cricket heard the words and understood a little of them. Her feelings of betrayal were threatening to drop her into that black pit in her heart. Give up entirely because even the one girl that cared was out to hurt her now. She curled up away from Meg again and whimpered disparagingly. She heard the girl stand there, repeated a few words that she heard every single day and wanted to believe that she, 'wont hurt'. 

What made Cricket look at Meg was the torrent of shame coming at her via scents. Meg was ashamed of something and still saying that the flat metal wont hurt. More words were tumbling from Meg, faster then she could understand in her limited biped vocabulary, all centering around the same notion. What made her turn fully was the fact that Meg was standing there, food piled up next to herself, and the metal tray on the other side. Meg was silent as she sat down on the ground. One swipe of her claws and Cricket could kill her in a second. The metal was out of Meg's reach and if she acted quick, the girl could be dead and gone. Cricket sensed that this was some kind of trust test Meg was pulling. She didn't know the right answer or way to ask what the hell she wanted out of this. Meg just sat there, then after a minute scooted back a little. 

Cricket snorted out a breath and looked at the food and then the metal thing. She took another tentative sniff of the food and it smelled like heaven. So tired of cow and pig. Something _different_ would be amazing. Her gaze flickered to Meg herself and a traitorous thought of her own whispered how _good_ bipeds taste. Cricket's mouth dropped a little. _How could she?_ Meg never tried to hurt her before. Maybe it was a mistake that the metal was brought in. Meg sure sounded like she was sorry she had it in here. But, at the same time, she wasn't taking it out either. She's just sitting there, eyes going from the food, to the tray and then up at her. Waiting. For what? To get eaten herself? Why else would she be sitting there like she placed the biped food stuffs? 

'What the hell are you doing?' Cricket growled. Angry at herself for not understanding. It seemed to be laid out as if it were obvious to everyone else besides her. 'What do you want from me?!' she growled a little louder, unfolding from her curled position. 

Meg's heart was hammering in her chest. She pissed Eve off. Shit. Her eyes darted to the nearest cage bars. How fast could she get up from the floor and bolt to safety? How can she prove that she's on eve's side in the next five seconds before Eve goes literal medieval on her?

Cricket hunched down similar to how she was before but this was for pure intimidation. She wanted answers and no one was _ever_ giving them to her. Water leaked from her eyes and she took a shuddering breath. Holding onto too many emotions, sensing a dozen more from Meg. It was too much. It was just too much. Cricket cried out, a mournful wail that echoed off of the narrow walls. Meg doubled over, clutching her head, curling into herself in obvious pain. It all mingled together in the air. Cricket choked back the next call when she heard Meg crying out as well. Pain, fear, despair, loss. All of it. Meg remained curled into herself, her hands sliding from protecting her ears to covering her face. Her sobs ebbed just a little as she laid on the ground, slipping to her side and covering up her head with an arm, the other curling around her stomach. Cricket whimpered overhead, 'Meg?' in a sad soft voice. The dragon lowered herself again, partially around the form of her friend who was in her own world of heartache. It was only hinted at before in the scents, now it was like the dam burst and Meg is baring her soul out. Showing everything to her, whether she knows it or cares. 'Meg? What's.... what's wrong?'

It didn't really occur to Cricket that Meg could be going through her own hardship. Something big happened and the little biped was devastated and trying to hide it this whole time. 'Meg?' she chirped a little. Trying to illicit a reaction, get her talking again. She dipped her nose in closer, discretely inhaling more information, she was startled when a fist came out and punched her upper lip. She jerked her head back, more from shock because the impact barely registered. Meg sucked in a breath for a moment, body convulsing from trying to keep in the sobs, eyes squinted shut tightly and face turned away sharply. She held the breath for one more moment before letting it out in a gush of air. Hiccuping another breath and burying her face in her hands again. She didn't seem to have any sense of self preservation, too worn out and thin to give a damn.

“Sorry. Sorry. Here I am feeling sorry for myself and you've been locked up for forever.” Meg mumbled and swiped at her eyes to clear off some of the tears and snot. She huffed a sad laugh and wiped her face again, angling it away from the car sized head of the dragon as best she could when said dragon was intent on smelling her again. Meg flung a hand out again, shoving at the mouth to go away. No longer caring a lick about her own safety for poking the monster. “My brother...” she sniffed again. “See, this bad guy,” she started, talking simply to the dragon since she wasn’t sure how much the dragon could understand, and only half caring if Eve was actually listening, there was no point in explaining with bigger words then necessary. Why make it harder? “This bad guy stole my brother from me. He could be hurting him.” she said at length, wondering how she could use her fingers to pantomime the actions. “And no one gives a shit but me.” her hand flipped about. “Everyone's so caught up in Dean that I think they put my brother on the back burner.”

Cricket kept a respectful distance from Meg, glad she was opening up, but wishing like hell that she could understand more of what the biped was saying. 

“But you don't care about my brother either.” Meg exhaled deeply. “I haven’t heard from the group for days. I'm stuck here. Waiting.” she swiped her eyes again. “Got this thing that the bad guy wants. A machine.” she then simplified, seeing the concentrated face before her, “This thing that can find Dean. He wants it in exchange for my brother. And I am such a shitty sister I didn't give it to him.” more tears fall. Meg shifts her position to face the dragon more fully. “Trying to protect your son, Sam's brother. All in the hopes that they can help me save my brother. But they haven’t even called me. Let me know the plan. They left me here to keep an eye on you. Help you get out too. The 'man on the inside'.” she hunched forward. “I'm so tired. I don't know how much more I can take.” her tear filled eyes looked up into the others. “Could you forgive me if I gave up your kid for my brother? I mean, not like send Dean straight to Azazel, just... for me to give the bastard the transceiver. The boys can handle one human. Pretty sure.” she added the last part almost like an addendum to convince herself that by that point, Azazel would be more or less alone. 

Cricket caught a few words and the meanings filled in with the scents. Meg was asking for permission to do something. The biped felt incredibly guilty for asking, but the desperation that hovered around her was palpable. Cricket didn't even think about what she could offer, but her only ally here, friend, was apparently in trouble and there was something she could do to help. Cricket chirped for attention and gave a meaningful look before nodding. 

Meg shook her head and the tears came again. “You don't even know what you're agreeing to. You don't even know your son is alive, do you?” Meg asked, looking for recognition in those large slit eyes. She was met with confusion but a willingness to help. “I wont take advantage of your ignorance of English.” she muttered to herself and pulled out her cell phone. “You have a right to know your kid is alive. I don't know what you're going to do when you find out... probably kill yourself trying to leave again. _Shit._ ” she paused in pulling up the most recent pic of Dean that Sam took. Dean was laying down at the other end of a campfire with her ex-husband sitting on Dean's arm. She let the phone go back to standby. Debating whether or not to show Eve the truth. The photo on the cell phone would be far too small for the mother to make out. She shook her head. Eve would definitely act differently tomorrow when everyone showed up again, then someone would insist on viewing the cameras. It was blind luck that no one took much interested in the night footage so far. She hunched forward again, heart and head aching at keeping this a secret even longer. She made several break through's with the dragon but this would be a game changer. They can only let her know Dean's alive when they're face to face and free again. She flipped to a different picture from her phone instead. “This is my brother. Crowley Masters.” she aimed the camera up to the nearest eye that was about the same size as a child's beach ball. “Hang on, all this equipment, there's gotta be some way to make this image bigger.” She got up and started for the bars. 

Cricket struggled for just a moment to get up as well and laid her hand down to steady herself enough to lift up her back legs. A soft clink/clank was heard under her hand and she looked down at the shining metal tray. Her eyes got wide at the realization but she felt no burn like she was half expecting. She still lifted up her hand quickly and looked at it carefully. She was fine. She kept on checking her hand for marks or pain but there was none, outside of the pressure from holding up her body on it when she laid her hand back down on top of the flat tray. 

Meg turned to the side to slip out of the bars and saw Eve studying the tray. “Not all metal is painful.” she tapped the bars and nodded, then pointed upwards to the silver netting that would fall if she tried escaping, and shook her head pointedly. “That hurts you. Ouchie.” she pretended to reach up to the silver and pulled her hand back sharply, waving it as if it burned her. “Ow!” she exaggerated the movements and Eve chirped in realization. “Yeah, you can touch these and your dishes, but don't touch that.”

Cricket felt her mind focusing a little better. Meg was explaining stuff in a way she could get. She got her feet moving again and tentatively held out her hand to the metal bars, hovering just over them. Meg was there and tapped the bars loudly to show they didn't hurt her. She tapped it quickly too and nothing happened. She tapped again rapidly before grabbing a hold of the bar fully and giving a tug. It was secured in place, but it didn't burn. A loud relieved sigh escaped her as she slumped down. Looking at her water and food dish and giving it a try. She knew what the thing was that intruded her stomach, it was feeding her because she wouldn’t eat from the large metal bowls. Now, there was no stopping her and she ate her fill of the slightly old meat and stale water. At finishing the sustenance, she whorled around and spotted the food that Meg brought in, only now remembering its presence and carefully spread the pile out on the floor. Picking up one of the round things with a hole in the center and sticking one end of her forked tongue through. Lifting it up and tasting the sweet slightly sticky coating on it before eating the light food. She could focus her attention to that tiny space on her tongue, detecting the sugar as something new and amazing. No more then a decent sized crumb really, but still, flavorful. 

“That's a donut.” Meg called over, still searching for something in the other side of the room where meetings were sometimes held. “There's other kinds of donuts there, try the frosted ones. You'll like them. I got candy bars, trail mix, chips and I think there's some cookies on there too.” her voice fading as she went into the adjoining office. She grinned to herself at the deep purrs coming from Eve's direction. The donuts were a hit!

For the rest of the night, Meg explained snacks to Eve, and after finding a projector and using one of the sterile white walls, showed off photos of herself and her brother at different events. Birthdays, bar hopping, congratulatory drinks after Crowley won a negotiation. 

All the while, Cricket found herself engaging more. Truly interested in Meg and her family. Learning more that night then in all the weeks prior. The night ended with both yawning and cursing the sun. Soon, the others would come in and they'd have to go back to the old routine. Meg somehow explaining that Cricket needed to pretend not to care about her when others were around. 

Cricket's weight improved, and slowly got some energy back. Thankfully the same kid asked Meg to cover again and she jumped at the opportunity. That night, Meg explained what Azazel wanted to do to her brother and at first Cricket was conflicted. She thought that her brother would make a fine dragon and didn't understand why Meg thought it was a bad thing. Meg spent a good chunk of time telling Cricket that she liked being herself, and just wanted her brother back as he was. Cricket relented and promised not to turn Crowley into a dragon either. She had asked Meg if she wanted the honor instead but that was met with scowls. She got it, eventually, and said she would still protect them, and consider Meg her adopted daughter. The night passed and Cricket's health was getting better, but the days spent without her very short biped friend wore on her and were hard to handle sometimes. But having hope again made all the difference. 

 

The same could not be said for Gordon. Since turning dragon, nothing has gone his way. He was told he would be unstoppable, strong, a leader, but now he was just another test subject and attack dog. Since the General knew for a fact he could understand English, there was no end to the training sessions. Gordon longed for freedom and played along most days with the sessions just to get that much closer to tasting fresh air. At the moment it looked like that would only be possible if he was told to hunt down something that was too big for the military to handle on its own. Which means, during his time here, he couldn't do more then sit, wait, train, and hate his near infinite imprisonment in this underground hell hole. He could hear the dragon mother in the next room, descending into madness and vowed that he would be stronger then that. Only slightly upset when it was just him and her, in the silent darkness, left with their hopelessness to keep them company. He kept quiet, not wanting to let on that the walls were thin just enough to hear each other. He didn't want her to hear him, or know that he could hear her, because then she might start in again with the talking and apologies or maybe even the death threats in verbal form this time. 

Gordon couldn't really blame her. She was a wild animal put in captivity. He wasn't too thrilled with the decision when it was suggested that they mate, but, he wasn't really in a position of power either. They told him that if he didn't do it, they'd keep him as a dragon longer then they promised. It wasn't widely known that there was a reversal spell for this thing, and he had to keep it silent or else tick off the General even more. The reward for good behavior was a kind of steroids that was making him even bigger and stronger. Once he's big enough, he planned on escaping on his own but then they drugged him and Eve so hard that he knew he was inches from death. When he came to, there was a electrified wired silver net overhead and some jackass explaining the security features they just installed as if he was a child being told not to stick his finger in a socket.

That kid nearly got eaten.

When Gordon saw the General next, there was no shortage of curses or threats on his life. He straightened up eventually, and kept on playing along. Waiting for his moment. His chance to get the fuck out of this cage. One night, he heard Eve in the other room, crying loudly like he hadn't heard her do for weeks. It ended soon enough and he was left wondering what the hell brought that on. Convincing himself not to give a shit about Eve and focus on his own existence. Wait. Patience. The moment will come.

It _has to_.

All these puny people, flaunting their freedom at him. Bastards. Coming in here reeking of fast food, theaters, green plants. Lives outside of this pit. They will pay. All of them. They cage him and leave him here like he's some house cat while the family goes on vacation. Throw enough food in his dish and he's supposed to be thankful for being ignored? Fucking assholes. They will feel his wrath. But the time isn't here yet. Play along. Get stronger. Learn their attack positions. Practice fighting. Get more muscles. Exercise. Don't waste away like that Eve chick. Be ready. Sure they keep him drugged most of the time, but when he's awake he can do something besides wallow in self pity. He will not be pitied. He will be feared. Just wait for the time when they call on him. Then, play along just long enough to get far away before he will kill them all. 

He didn't have to wait too long.

Gordon was sluggish but still had that spark of malice behind his eyes. He had been sleeping to rest his weary muscles from the rigorous training he did last night. He kinda wished he waited on that to have more energy to show the General. The big boss man himself was here, followed by that crowd of yes-men that he's been comforted with. Like a human security blanket. Weakling. 

Gordon took a deep breath and pieced together the General's intentions. Wasn't hard. The General was desperate enough to come to him for help. The military guys that work under him couldn't get a job done so now they're finally coming to use the big guns. Doesn’t mean that he has to like it. He will show them all that he's not just some attack dog. He's smart enough to double cross the military. He just has to make sure he's patient enough as well. His thoughts were overlapping with plans on how exactly he wants to kill the General and had to focus on what the little star spangled bastard was saying.

“Find the tan dragon. Kill the ones helping him. Cripple the dragon and bring his body back here and you'll earn more freedoms.”

The dark brown and black dragon snarled at the small General and even though it wasn't using any kind of words, the General assumed that the dragon was saying yes. It was what he wanted to hear, so the vocalizations and growls only confirmed in the general's mind how much Gordon wanted to do the job. 

“The tracking chip in your spine will help us follow your movements so that our ground troops can aide your hunt.” the general added, “It will also punish you if you misbehave. Removing it would kill you. But it wont come to that, now would it? You are ready for this hunt, yes?”

Walker just rumbled at him, eyes going to slits as his body woke up. He could smell the overconfidence on the small human and grinned. He nodded for the cameras and straightened up like a good little soldier. He did not want to miss this opportunity to get out of the cold cell and taste the free air again. 

There was a sharp pinch on his spine, a physical reminder of what they implanted and he pretended it hurt far worse then it did. If they knew it was little more then a bug bite to him, they would surely up the shock. He pretended to be lulled back to sleep and paid rapt attention to the way they were extracting him from the cell. The netting over the cage was removed and he was lifted up and out of it. He wanted so badly to send the middle finger to the guys on the ground as he was flown away but refrained for now. Fresh air never felt so good. 

 

As the small group of fugitives were finishing up, removing what evidence they could of their short stay at the precinct, they located their belongings in a different locked room labeled 'Evidence'. Retrieving their things that were wrapped up individually in plastic bags with their descriptions on them since they hadn't gotten their names yet. Dean chirp huffed a laugh as Sam's was labeled, 'Tall Hippy', and Cas's was 'Columbo dude'. Clearly an intern with a sense of humor. Bobby wouldn't let the others see what his was labeled, and Dean figured it must be something good according to the amusement in Rufus's eyes as he handed out the small bags of belongings. Balthazar proudly showed off his to the others like he'd won a prize. 'the Cute ass Brit'. 

Their keys were on the sheriff's desk, not yet locked up in evidence, and they did one last cursory look around at the seemingly empty station as they slipped outside, locking the doors behind them.

Now outside of the police station, the five men and one cat sized dragon being held like a football, sprinted to the gated area where the Impala and Rufus's truck were parked, about a dozen spots away from the few official vehicles were stored. Sam figured that with all of the weapons still in the trunk and truck, the officers were worried of removing anything, lest it explode on them. They wasted no time at all getting into the cars and going. 

Their belongings were dumped out on the seats, cell phones checked alongside wallets in case any of the locked up officers decided to dip into their cash funds. Everything was accounted for as they sped along to the nearest town limits. Jo was keeping them up to date on what Michael's group was up to, and where _not_ to hide. Balthazar got the go ahead to have Brandon and Wes help with incapacitating their group but it looks as though Ellen and Jo were able to successfully stage a coop. All the while, the two vehicles sped along, trying to put as much distance between them and the town as possible. 

'Sammy! Slow down or you're gonna pop a tire!' Dean admonished with an irritated flap of his wings. 

“If you were driving, you'd be doing twice this speed.” Sam informed and grinned at his brother. His hand came up unbidden to cup Dean's head in his palm. The tactile reassurance that Dean was ok. “Are you in any pain?” he asked as Dean was now noticeably bigger by at least another two inches. 

Dean nipped at the fingers that curled away. 'I'm fine. Dane's fine too.' he shrugged. 'Can't exactly talk to him at the moment but he doesn't feel stressed.' 

Cas adjusted in his seat as Dean's weight was getting to be a bit much. All eyes were darting to Dean every few seconds as the growth spurt seemed to stall again. Cas checked on Dean's leg and arm, noting that they are nearly healed and that Dean is using them to support more of his weight. 

“You ok, Cassie?” Balth asked from behind them, detecting the squirming in the seat ahead of him, leaning forward to see the three in the front bench seat. “If he gets bigger then that, just put him back here with me. We will need to figure out what to do if he gets bigger then dog size.”

Sam forced himself to watch where he was driving now that it looked like Dean was done growing at the moment. “We could fit him in the car when he's about horse sized. He was just a toddler back then and wedged into the backseat by himself, but we managed. At least we've got Rufus's truck, we can put him in the back with a tarp or blanket over him if he gets bigger then that.”

Dean frowned a little, not liking the idea of being hauled around like that again. A burden. 'So much easier before.' he mumbled. Not exactly loving the time spent being tiny, but if it puts his family at risk, he'd take it over this unpredictable growth spurt any day. He looked down at his spot on Cas's lap and belatedly realized he must be pretty heavy for his mate to hold up now, sharp and angular. Like a dog that doesn’t know about how pointed their feet and joints are when they cuddle. Cats somehow manage to minimize pressure points and he wished he could learn how to do that for these few hours (minutes?) he was this size. He carefully got off of Cas's lap and though Cas looked a little sad for the loss, he couldn't help the inhale that signaled a relief from the sharp weight. Cas was feeling guilty for being hurt by Dean's claws and sharp angles. 

Dean snorted the scents out and cuddled up gently next to Castiel's left arm, between his brother and mate. Resting his head on Cas's lap and occasionally teasing his brother with his tail whipping his ribs to tickle him.

Sam furiously rubbed his side and sent a bitchface down at Dean. “Stop, or I'll sit on that tail.”

Dean pouted and curled it around his body again and hissed playfully at Sam who's currently 'ruffling' the non-existent fur with his fingers along Dean's back. Of course he had no fur or hair at all, but the still sizable fingers found loose enough scales to disturb along Dean's side, causing him to stifle an unmanly dragon giggle. Sam got small sharp fangs in his index finger for his teasing and Dean got a soft bop on his nose.

“No biting.” Sam chuckled and was glad that Dean relaxed as predicted at their form of brotherly bonding. Dean stretched out on his side, 'accidentally' digging his hind claws into Sam's butt, causing the taller Winchester to buck off the seat with a yelp and series of cuss words. 

Dean found the bitch's ass sitting on his tail as promised. Only letting up when Dean squawked, 'Uncle, _Bitch_!' 

“Jerk.” Sam asserted and adjusted his sitting again, smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. He had to get his pranks in soon because Dean's going to be top dog in a hot minute, and one playful nudge from Deanzilla could toss his ass into next week. Dean adjusted his position again, keeping all sharp bits away from Sam... for now. 

Cas relaxed as well at the new normal. Dean had been feeling rather tense next to him, almost forcing himself to calm down and failing miserably. Nothing like family to put his mind at ease. They followed the truck ahead of them and pulled over at a gas station for some more fuel. Dean didn't need to be told anything before ducking down into the foot well as Cas exited the car, draping his coat over the swan sized dragon. Cas stretched out and noticed the others doing the same. They had driven for hours before stopping. 

Dean chirped something quietly to Cas and he frowned. There wasn't really a spot for Dean to relieve himself at this rest stop so he'd have to hold it for another mile or so. Cas looked up at Sam who was filling up the tank at the rear of the Impala and nodded that he heard Dean and would take care of it. The others were already in the store, getting fresher food supplies and taking care of their own business. 

'Go, I'll be fine. Get me some hot dogs.' Dean chirped and curled around to fit in the space better. Knowing why Cas was hovering around the car. 'Sam, I forgot, can you remind them to get something to cover me with if I grow to horse size again? I don't think we have a blanket big enough for the truck.' 

Sam knocked twice on the trunk for 'yes' and flipped open his phone to text Bobby. 

'Ah crap.' Dean grunted. 'Sam. Tell him to _hurry,_ it's happening again.'

Sam wasn't even done filling up the tank when he felt the car shifting side to side. Dean must be getting to be large dog size now for him to be able to move the car just by shifting positions. He checked the progress of the gas when it coincidentally shut itself off, signaling the full tank. He strode over to check on Rufus's truck, noting it was nearly done as well. By the time he looked in to the Impala, he saw Dean clumsily scale the bench seat to lay down in the back. His head lifting close to the driver's side and frowning at Sam. Husky size now. Dean shook his head, frowned deeply, and ducked down again. 

“ _Shit._ ” Sam muttered and strode back to the Impala, noting that this gas station was empty enough, he was confident that no one would mess with Rufus's truck in those few minutes. He leaned into the driver's side window saw that Dean was now filling up over half of the bench seat. Both brothers willed the growth spurt to stall again just until he can get to the tree line cover. Sam hastily paid with a fake credit card and jumped into the driver's seat. He tried and failed not to peel out of the gas station and sped along to the nearest woods he could find, which was about a half mile away and part of some farm's wind breaker. Overgrown woods just thick enough to do the job of hiding the Impala and its passengers for a minute until the truck could arrive as Dean's new mode of transportation. The main farmhouse was probably on the opposite side from where they were headed. He hoped. All Sam could see in the distance were trees in a square like configuration just like all of the other farms they pass on a daily basis.

“Dean? How you holding up?” Sam glanced behind his seat to the twitching spines and wing membranes, unable to see his brother's bowed head.

'Peachy.' Dean grumbled. 'We are stopping _now,_ right? They still gotta be able to find us.' Dean couldn't stop fidgeting as his body kept on growing. Feet and hands sliding outwards just enough to catch his claws on the leather seats. His wing thumbs also kept on grasping at the backs of both bench seats, trying to lift his body up just enough to give it space. This whole growing thing was weird as hell. It was like the Impala was getting smaller and smaller, closing in on him. Giving him a brief but disturbing sense of claustrophobia. He lifted and rested his head on the back of the bench next to Sam's head and his brother tried not to panic himself with how close those fangs were to his eyes as Dean growled, 'Dude, please. This is getting far too weird and small and _just find a place_.' he urged, ducking back down after seeing the slight flinch his little brother made. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam said somewhat distractedly as he found a tram line to follow to the taller rows of trees. Horses whined loudly and stamped about in a field nearby. He parked the car behind what little cover there was. “Ok,” he said a little breathless as he flung the passenger side door open to reveal Dean's folded arms and curled head. “You gotta climb those trees over there. This grassy area isn't deep enough,”

Dean trusted his brother and slipped out of the car. He stood next to the car for a second, stretching his legs and seeing that he must be just over five feet tall. If they're going by just body weight, the brothers were now about the same, but Dean took up more room because of his birdlike bones. His body, not including the long neck, was now comparable to a decent sized pony with wings. Sam's eyes trailed along Dean's body, assessing the damage the growth spurt might have, but aside from the mental aspects of having the world change around him, Dean seemed alright, over-all. His wings folded in again after shaking out the creepy feeling of the air shifting around him. The wind felt differently now. Like it wasn't about to knock him on his ass with a light breeze. He sighed contentedly. This size was alright. Not Borrower or Gigantor. Things looked more normal at the moment and he's grateful the growing stalled for now if just to give himself a breather.

Dean finally looked around himself and spotted the farmstead not far away. He scowled at Sam who shrugged. It really was the only cover for miles in these crops. Dean sighed and eyed up what trees were available for his new temporary hiding place. A great pine tree looked promising and he stuck his tongue out at Sam for making him do this. Sam wasn't really looking though, quickly texting the others about where they were and to grab a whole lot of meat. 

'Bathroom first.' Dean said and shuffled off to find a good spot where he could bury it before it caught the grasses on fire if it came out smoldering yet again. Dean hunched down and grumbled at Sam, 'Be grateful you don't have to worry about setting shit on fire with your shit, Dude.' 

Sam smirked at that statement, and saw Dean's bowed neck and wings move in a tight circle, sounds of dirt being dug up and churned as the only noises around. Sam turned around to give him some privacy and noticed the birds stopped chirping and the wildlife seemed to be holding their breath at this intrusion of supernatural monsters crapping in their presence. Dean kicked his feet out a little, throwing extra dirt over his excriment. Driven by instincts that he refuses to admit make him look like a dog. Dean doesn't like dogs and he certainly doesn't act like them. A part of him was grateful for not being comparable to a dog for more then five minutes as he grew. At least now he's slightly bigger then the biggest dogs out there. Not by much, but enough. 

This farm had horses of all breeds and sizes in a pen that hugged the treeline and as Dean sized up a good tree and climbed, he wondered if he was about proportionate to them now. Imagining how easy a pony could climb this prickly pine tree. He prided himself on his stealth as he scaled it with limited sound and settled on several larger branches, wrapping his wings around his body for the camouflage to do it's duty once he settled. He lowered his neck and head to rest along one of the branches, willing himself to look like part of the tree for however long Sam needs to figure the next plan of action out.

The truck was hauling ass down the road and about to pass them when Sam called and directed them to a spot closer to Dean's tree. Rufus, Cas, and Bobby were in the cab with Balthazar riding in the back, still arranging the supplies in the hold. 

Sam was pretty proud of his brother and just folded his arms at the others when they asked where Dean was. The grin on his face the only thing keeping them from freaking out about his disappearance. Dean quietly stiffened up, loving this brief one sided game of hide and seek. He could claim it was for training purposes later, for now, he was eager to find out how well he's doing as a ninja in a more natural environment. His body is bigger then before but better camoflauged for the outdoors rather then police stations. He grinned quietly and dared to peer off of his branch to the guys below. 

The farm looked deserted but they still kept quiet as they spread out along the ground, moving long grasses and weeds off to the side, a silent hunting game for bragging rights. Bobby got his cane out and used that to move the plants around, and stole a few glimpses Sam's way. Waiting for the moment when the tall hunter gives away Dean's location with a single glance. Sam knew what Bobby was doing and stuck his tongue out. Not gonna fall for it. Instead, Sam started looking all around himself like Stevey Wonder tracking a swarm of bees over his head, just for the sole purpose of annoying Bobby. 

Rufus gave up searching after just a few seconds, opting to rearrange his stuff instead. Loading up the Impala with the things that were in the back of his truck because if Sam had to take Dean away from the gas station, that meant he was too big to hide in the car anymore and was probably going to get bigger. He would leave the game to the kids. Balth was waved off of the truck and gleefully joined in the dragon hunt. Rushing by Cas and sweeping his gaze over the horse corral. Noticing that they were keeping their distance from the trees and whinnying nervously. He looked to where the majority of them were looking and shaded his eyes from the sun to see better.

Cas was trying very hard to hear him out. Knowing that even if Dean whispers, he and Sam could hear him clearer then the others. Dean must have figured this out and was even holding his breath. Cas went for the cheeky. “Dean! _Oh Dean,_ whenever I find you, I am going to do such _marvelously dirty things to you._ ” 

Sam sputtered and jerked his head over to Cas then glanced up at Dean's tree. Bobby saw Sam's eyes dart upwards and hobbled over to the pines. Balth was just bent over, laughing his ass off at the declaration of smut riddled love that Cas was now half shouting. 

Cas heard Dean sputter a response that sounded like, 'W-what? _Here_?!' before the sound of his mouth clicking shut was heard. Cas darted towards the biggest pine tree, hearing his lover breath half formed syllables of response to that. 

Rufus had no words.

Cas overtook Bobby's hobbled run, chuckling at the determined look on the old hunter's face to win this silly race. Like if he touched the tree first, he'd win. Cas stopped running and looked up and saw the long freckled tail twitch in the same excited way it did when they were intimate. “If you declare me the winner, I'll do such naughty things to make even Balthazar blush.”

“Cheater.” Bobby laughed, still making for the tree, overtaking Cas this time. “I saw 'im first! Isn't that right, Sam?”

Sam just raised his hands, he's not the judge here. He didn't want to get in-between his surrogate dad and Dean's lover. Balth was still laughing his head off, and Rufus looked like he needed a drink. Guess the cat's out of the bag on that one. If Rufus didn't suspect the relationship before...

Dean uncurled from the tree, looking at Cas then Bobby and fidgeting. He had to choose. And even if this was just a silly game, he still felt a little bad for having to make a choice as to who's his favorite. If he stayed in the tree, there's no way Bobby could scale it to touch him first, and if he went by who spotted him first, then Cas wouldn't get the credit for being the one smart enough to make him give himself away. One look to Sam confirmed he was on his own. 'Thanks a lot Sam.' he mumbled. 

From a little distance away they could hear Balthazar belt out, full of mirth, “Dean! Let Bobby win! Otherwise Cas would need to get medical treatment after your sex-capades!” 

Dean faltered on his perch just enough to hear the wood creak and crack under his weight, as if the old pine just remembered that it's ill equiped to be holding up a freaking horse sized dragon in it's branches. Dean snapped his wings out as best he could and leaped from the tree, angling himself to dodge the larger branches on his way down and nearly knocking Bobby over with his beating wings. His wingspan was much larger then it had been the last time he was horse sized and in a tree. He briefly flashed back to his toddler days and remembering a time when he had tried to escape a falling tree into a creak but had the tree pin him down in the water instead. Sam was there and trying to disentangle him from the branches that pinned him down. Only a moment of panic hit before his much larger, fully formed adult sized wings folded back against his body and his balance was stabilized. Bobby was on his knees, breathless and chuckling as he looked up at Dean that had his legs splayed out and wings quivering. Memories that weren't entirely his being shoved in his face. He shook his head to clear it and looked around at the taller men around him. Straightening up, he gained another 5 inches, now just over Bobby's height.

“I win.” Bobby said smugly and Dean used one of his wings to help Bobby to his feet. Grabbing the older hunters hand with his wing wrist and thumb and guiding him upright again. Then handing him his cane and backing up a little. 

'For the record, I didn't let him win, Cas.' Dean explained hastily.

Cas grinned and walked up to Dean, seeing the dragon for the first time at a more eye to eye level that they'd never had before. “Then I'll have to settle for the consolation prize.” He said and lifted up his hands to rest on Deans horns to pull the long head up just enough to give him a lengthy kiss on his thin lips. Cas's right hand left that horn and traced fingers along the bridge of Dean's nose, cupping the cheek and finally pulling back from the kiss. A blush on his cheeks and he imagined Dean's would be as well. The green eyes darting from one of Cas's to the other, shock turning quickly to desire. 

'Race you to the back of your mouth.' Dean whispered a bit breathlessly before lunching forward again with his long mouth open and tongue snaking out. Cas's own surprise left his mouth wide open for the foot long tongue to partially sneak it's way in, the forked ends being gentle as they curled around his own tongue and tugged and turned it sensually, very mindful of the back of his lover's throat and the gag reflex. Tracing every centimeter of Cas's mouth, the human basically stood there, trying to keep his balance and growing erection in check. His human tongue failing to keep up with the dexterity that Dean's capable of. Dean sealed his much larger lips around the whole lower part of Cas's face before remembering that occasionally, Cas needs to breath out of something. He slid his lips down to Cas's much smaller mouth before sucking in his forked tongue again. Darting it out briefly to clean up the line of spit that dripped from his lover's mouth from the welcomed intrusion. Fuck, he tasted just as good as he did back at the cabin. What he'd give to have the man all alone again. He'd have to do it quick before he grew again and this opportunity disapears. 

Cas wavered in place, mouth still gaping and eyes hooded and pupils blown to hell. Dean's right wing coming around to wrap Cas up and keep him from falling. The look on Dean's face was complicated. He DEFINITLY wanted to do more, but there were a few things keeping them in check. Several of those were now standing around the two of them in a loose circle of disbelief. To hide his slight embarrassment at getting caught with the PDA, Dean resorted to ego boosting. 'I just can't help myself, Cas is just too damned hot!' he nickered at his lover for those that couldn't understand his speech. Giving one quick assessing look to make sure Cas could stand on his own and winking at him after that look confirmed a nice little how-de-do forming in Castiel's pants. Scratch that, _Dean's_ pants that his mate, Cas is wearing. And isn't that just hot all by itself?! 'Fuck Cas, you don't even have to try do you?' Dean whispered, clear adoration in his eyes and a quick thankfully tongueless kiss to his cheek. Dean ruffled his wings for a few seconds, working on calming down his own excitement 'downstairs' and taking a few steps away from everyone to check and make sure that he's not red-rocketing down there. At least Cas has clothing he can hide it behind. Lucky bastard. 

'Well? Are we going or what?' His chirp sounded a little louder and higher pitched then normal as his hing legs twitched more then usual. Apparently, that was the wrong sound to make as a great big beast of a dog came barking and howling from the barn, headed right for Dean.

Dean yelped at the barking mass of long brown fur, muscles, and fangs and he forgot himself and his natural defenses in exchange for speed and cover. The dog didn't seem to give a shit that it's quarry was freakin' huge and winged, only that it looked threatening and was in his property. The others were so startled by the sudden appearance of barking dog and flailing dragon to do much more then stand dumbfounded as Dean ran away from them towards the house, being chased down by the dog that was clearly intent on killing him. Guns were still in the cars since they weren't expecting a fight. Mistake number one. 

Sam loved dogs and understood this one's reasonings, but it was going after his brother and he can't allow that. He was just stunned that Dean's instincts as a dragon didn't immediately kick in and just kill the attacking dog. 

Dean didn't really care for dogs on the best of days, but this one seemed to like him even less. It took a few seconds of running to realize that the dog was actually herding him _towards_ the house! Every time he tried to spin around and confront the dog head on, it would bite at his tail or hind legs or wing tips that were in reach. And that shit hurt! Damn this dog was smart and fast! Some kind of mutt mixed in with a Leonberger and maybe even wolf. One of Dean's flings had a Leonberger and his opinions of dogs was not improved by how protective it was of its female owner. He told Sam afterwards that the bite marks were from some monster and not an animal named Fluffy that totally _kicked his ass_.

He opened up his wings to fly but was distracted by the sound of a shotgun going off from the side of the house. A shout to the dog to back up and the sudden disappearance of said dog. 

'Shit! Shitshitshit!' he spun around to face the farmer and dodged the first round of buckshot, what little hit him didn't hurt per-say, but it was still alarming as hell to be shot at. Shouts were heard behind him from his group but he couldn't really stop his momentum. Stumbling up the short porch and plowing through the front door. He skittered to a halt in the entryway that opened up into a living room with stairs in front of him. More dogs barking angrily inside that were probably just around the corner. He stumbled up the stairs, hoping for an exit to the house in the second floor and finding two locked rooms and a bathroom which he just barely fit inside. The big Leon-bastard already in the entryway.

A commotion was heard inside the house now, Dean could detect Sam and Cas's voice in the mix and the unfamiliar voice of the farmer all shouting and threatening. The dog stopped it's advance, snarling and bristling at the bathroom's entryway, filling up the door frame. It knew it had Dean cornered and was just guarding the door, waiting for it's owner to finish him off. Dean found himself in the tub, shower curtain being the only thing between him and those teeth. He had to take a breath and get some of his 'Big Bad Drauglin' attitude back. His ego was taking a crushing blow right about now. He stretched his neck out and looked levelly at the still snarling dog and slowly exited the rather large tub, stalking forward the very short distance and giving a growl of his own. 

'Now you listen here, Pup. You will respect me like you respect the natural order.'

Apparently the natural order had this damned dog above dragons because it barked and Dean flinched back. Dean looked up when he heard the voices on the other side of the wall and relief and embarrassment were on his face in equal portions as he saw his little brother holding the farmer's shotgun aimed up and away. The farmer at his shoulder, frowning intently until it laid clearer eyes on Dean. His eyes went comically wide and he grasped blindly for his dog's collar. He snagged it in his old hands and jerked the big dog back from the door, cursing them out the whole way in whatever language that was. Bobby's voice was speaking the same thing and sounding like he was trying to explain the situation with rational calmness. 

Sam's look of worry melted into slight amusement as Dean frowned at him. 

'Shut up. You'd have run too.' Dean pouted and shoved Sam aside to squeeze through the doorway again. 'Gonna stick a Plucky Penniwhistle clown in your bed tonight.' at the dubious look of where Dean could find such a thing, Dean just stuck his tongue out. Knowing that Sam meant no harm, and he'll even laugh about it later over drinks. For now, he dealt with the situation by maturely stomping towards the stairs and descending them with a little difficulty. Cas was at the bottom, being held back by Balthazar because the house was just too narrow to let anyone else upstairs with them. 

Cas could practically taste the embarrassment coming from Dean and laid his arm around the neck, “That has got to be the _meanest_ hound I’ve ever seen.” Cas said, glowering at the dog in question as it continued to grumble at them from its position at its owners feet. Being held tightly by the farmer. The other medium sized dogs were being rounded up by Rufus and Balth now and put in a side room. Too small to be outdoor dogs or do much damage, they just didn't want to have to watch where _Dean_ stepped. The farmer refused to let anyone touch his big dog though, probably afraid they'd shoot the snarling mutt. 

Dean sighed heavily and left the house out of the widened doorway that his charging body created. What a mess. 'Tell Sam to give him some cash for a new door.' Dean mumbled and got down from the porch, heading for the truck. He didn't wait for anyone else, but was glad Cas agreed with him that that dog in particular was a total dick. He knew he failed at defending himself this time, and worried that he'd fail again when confronted with the _real_ enemy. 

Cas knew what he might be thinking and said, “I know you didn't want to hurt the dog, it's just a dumb mutt that didn't know exactly who it was up against.” Cas had to pick up his pace to keep level with Dean's strides. “I'm glad you spared the dog, the farmer's other ones wouldn't have been enough to protect his property in the future.”

Dean shrugged and slowed down a little, hearing Cas breathing just a little hard. He turned to the house to see the others exit with some more words with the owner. “Thanks for that, Cas. But. I think we're gonna have to train a bit more before we go up against the bad guys. I know I was all gung-ho to just kill them all, but after this? I dunno.' Dean sighed, head dipping down to Cas's chest to bump his cheek into it. Cas wordlessly knew what Dean wanted and stroked his fingers along Dean's nose to comfort him. Dean's eyes closed a little, relaxing just a bit, glad that Cas didn't just outright reject him for this failure. He knew Cas wouldn't leave him that easily, but it's still nice to have it proven. 

'Thanks, Cas.' he murmured for his ears only. 'You're awesome,' and gently kissed Castiel's hand when it rested on the end of his nose. Knuckles dragging along the front upper lip the way that he likes it. A rumbling purr coming from his chest at the affection being shared between them. 

“I love you too.” he rubbed harder and leaned forward to give Dean a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Now lets defile that shed over there while we have a few minutes.”

Dean had no words, but he _did have_ a hell of a lot of snot coming out of his nose from the loud undignified snort in then out. 

Dean then nearly fell over himself when his mate simply wiped off his pant leg of the thick mucus and said optimistically, “Ah, _lube_.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the freaking long ass delay in writing this chapter but I have valid reasons! I was busy as *freakin* *hell*! Sold my beloved old van to my best friend, bought a rather large silverado truck, bought a decent pop up camper (and then portable ac/fridge etc for it) since I ran out of time before my families camping vacation to buy what I really wanted, which was a slightly larger camper, and am currently *still* trying to sell my old camper - which took a great chunk of time by itself and it's still sitting in my yard. I would have used my old camper but it looked as though a couple that had reserved it were actually going to finish buying it. They changed their minds last minute and made me miss a chance to sell it to a lady that said she had cash in hand and could buy it that day. Ungh.   
> oh, and May also had my birthday, my Mom's birthday, an aunts, sister in law, and school ending for my nieces. BUSY! and now, the camping trip is upon the clan so it will be a bit before the next chapter is written as well. Lemme know if you want to read more smut or if it's best left to the space between chapters and your imaginations! :)  
> Stay cool out there!   
> (96 degrees here in Iowa today)


	33. Ain't Never Gonna Quit, Acting Like We're Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon sexy times for the first half then plot whee! better descriptions when i have time!

 

Chapter 33

Ain't Never Gonna Quit, Acting Like We're Animals

 

 

 

Sam felt something coming from Dean outside and chose to ignore it. Dean and Cas were doing something lovey dovey and he was resolved not to feel or acknowledge it unless it gets too out of hand. There were other people around him now and it's not like he can hide away in the shed like the last time his brother got lucky with the cryptozoologist. Balthazar raised an eyebrow at Sam's discomfort but said nothing, opting instead to keep an eye on the couple outside. Dean was rolling on the ground, laughing his ass off. And Cassie had a smug look on his face while holding up his hand with some kind of goo on it. It didn't look like they needed nor wanted company so he stayed a short distance away on the porch.

Sam couldn't keep from fidgeting and sending irritated glares out of the house. Balth wondered what the hell that was about. He was pretty sure Dean wasn't saying anything. Knowing that Sam and Cassie could hear the dragon pretty damned well, it didn't look like Dean was talking about or to Sam. Heart eyes firmly on Cassie who was leading the way to the old shed on the further side of the farm's property.

Sam grumbled under his breath and sent daggers towards the couple before getting up abruptly and marching out of the farmhouse, accidentally shoving Balthazar's shoulder.

“What's going on?” Balth asked once he got his balance again, reaching out and snagging Sam's shoulder in his hand. Sam turned around and was caught trying to figure out if he should inform the others or just let it slide again. One hand going to the front of his jeans as he frowned at Balthazar and looked back towards the shed where Cas and Dean were now shutting the door. Balth looked to where Sam had both hands now, and where he was looking.

“Oh... oh my. Oh wow... you mean you can - ?” Balth flapped a hand in the lovers direction. He was debating whether to laugh or cry in sympathy. He leaned in a little closer to Sam, “Do they know?”

Sam was briefly impressed with how quick Balthazar was on the uptake and his frown deepened when the words sunk in, “No! God no. I didn't think it was any of my business, and I didn't want them to be embarrassed at first. The first time they did... _that_. But this? _Again_? I'm a _victim_ in this! I don't want it.” he bitchfaced the closed shed doors, “Fuckin communication spell. They really should have listed the side effects!”

Balth held back a snicker at the predicament and look towards the shed in thought as well. “Do you want me to break it up? I can hook up the water hose...” he said and looked towards the house again. Keeping their conversation quiet, there's no need to broadcast it to Bobby, Rufus or that farmer gentleman. Poor farmer already has to deal with enough on his plate at the moment, no sense making it worse with how perverted this all may seem to the outsider. Never mind the fact that it was entirely unplanned and unwanted. No one but the dragon's mother wanted Dean to be a dragon. Dean least of all.

Sam squirmed a little, hands now in his jeans pockets towards the center to help hide the unwanted tent. “A water hose? I don't know.” he shook his head, hair flopping around a little. This discomfort doesn't really warrant a treatment like that. Dean and Cas aren't dogs in heat. They deserve a bit of privacy. They can't even show affection without people thinking the worst. That Dean's a mindless animal and Cas is somehow forcing him into bestiality. Outsiders would never understand. “No. They only have like maybe an hour to be the same size and fit... God that's disgusting to think about but only because that's my brother and dammit... fucking hell.” Sam went to pace about on the porch. He stopped and pulled his hands out of his pockets to rest on his hips before coming to a decision. “No. Leave them alone. I'm just gonna duck out and uh...” one hand stuck a thumb out and angled it away from everyone.

Balth nodded sagely, “And take care of business, I got this.” before he ushered Sam towsrds the other end of the farm. At Sam's quizzical look he elaborated, “I've done my fair share of questionable things, who am I to judge? go.” his hands flipped forwards as if shooing off a child.

Sam gave a complicated look, a half grin and confused frown. He hurried off before anyone would notice he was gone.

 

In the shed, Cas and Dean wasted no time at all. Dean, grateful that Cas was open minded enough to do this again and actually seemed as eager as him to do it asap. There's no telling when he'll grow again so it was decided that he goes first and then Cas when it came to Pitching and Catching. If Dean grew while inside Cas... well, they just didn't want to think about that so while he was feeling alright and stable, he went first with ample amount of lubrication. Thankfully, this being a farm, there was a few cans of utter balm for the cows that must have called this home in the past. It was a perfect substitution as Cas talked about how he used to buy similar products for his dry hands. Dean didn't need any convincing, he would prefer just about anything over his mate's previous suggestion. 

Dean noticed and uncovered a couch that had probably sat in the shed for at least a decade, too good to throw out, but not good enough for the house. He pounded the cushions with a wing and blew off the remaining dust as Cas got to work on clearing enough room for them to move on the ground. All while being quiet and careful not to make a mess. Dean could turn around and debated if he wanted to lay on the couch now or later as Cas finished up moving stuff away. Dean gave his closest approximation of a whistle at Cas as he bent over away from Dean, scooting some small debris away. 

Cas blushed a little and pushed Dean away to give him some space to strip. Dean was just itching to help but with all of his claws, he was scared of hurting him so he settled on watching and giving approving purring growls. Once he was undressed, Dean sat down on the couch sideways, letting one leg still hang off and onto the floor to help keep him steady on the couch with his wing draped over the back of the couch and the other hanging down to the ground over his leg. Dean was almost too big for the couch but Cas made do with the other end, leaning against the opposite arm rest and lifting his legs to give his mate full view. Dean's head lowered a little, inhaling that heady aroma that his mate was wafting all over the damned place. His eyes drooped a little and Cas lightly smacked his nose away to give himself some room. 

Castiel's hands dipped between his splayed legs that crooked outward. The hands then started stroking his member, licking his lips and leaving Dean in a state of mild shock. His other hand dipped even lower, past his balls towards his entrance and with the help of the balm, slipped right in. Dean started panting. Nose flaring and he needed to touch his mate, even just a little so one of his hands very carefully lowered onto Castiel's foot that was still on the couch and squeezed it, holding it in place as Cas slipped in another finger. 

Cas loved every second of it, opening his entrance up enough to let in his lover. Dean's pupils were dilating and contracting in time with Castiel's slow bouncing. It took time, and Dean was getting more and more worried he would hurt his lover. At least the last time they made love, there was no risk of Cas getting injured like _that_. Back then they knew for a fact Dean wasn't just going to explode in size at any moment with little warning. Right now, they really were the perfect size for each other. But not knowing how long they'd have this, was making Dean a little panicky. This wasn't worth maiming his boyfriend with a dick that would soon be longer then Castiel's legs. 

Cas pulled himself out of his rhythm when Dean started looking around them, like he was looking for a way out. The clawed hand on his foot let go and backed up next to the other one. Dean pulled his head back and closed his eyes, willing himself not to notice how fucking sexy Cas looks, smells, and sounds right now. The thoughts of Cas preparing himself just for Dean. All for him. Cas frowned at the feelings coming from the Drauglin and stopped his stroking to reach for Dean's face. 

Dean wanted to back out just as Cas was panting his way through three fingers. Cas saw the guilty look in Dean's eyes as if he'd already hurt him. But nothing even happened yet. Cas pulled his hands free and before Dean could protest, he completely turned around on the couch to lean up against Dean, he grabbed a hold of Dean's feet after some fumbling and jerked them past his legs to force Dean into touching as much of Cas as possible. Dean flailed for just a second to get his balance back and wrapped his arm around Castiel's chest and the other on the front end of the couch to keep them both on it. His tail went to the floor and helped ease the awkward angle his body was now in. Wings still draped to either side of the couch and now Dean's chest was level with Castiel's shoulders, his black hair on Dean's shoulders as the human looked up towards Dean's head curling down and turned to still see his blue eyes. 

Cas was basically cradled in Dean's body, and he lifted a hand to gently stroke the underside of Dean's jaw before going back to his nethers. “That's better.” He simply said and loved how Dean's heart was racing behind him when he applied more balm to his hands and went back to work, opening his hole up. Three fingers in. His other hand went to the arm Dean was using to keep them on the couch, helping prop himself up as well. Dean's sheath slowly and probably unconsciously rubbing along his lower back. Dean swallowed thickly before letting in and out several calming breaths.

'No.' The arm around Cas's chest tightening a fraction to get his attention. 'No Cas, it's alright, we'll just 69 again, ok?'

Cas adjusted his knees a little wider as he slipped down a few more inches to lay on his lower back, resting against Dean's belly with Dean's head and long neck dipped down in front of the human. Cas frowned, a pinched expression for a second before adding the fourth finger a bit impatiently. Almost as if that were the end of the conversation by itself. “Dean.” he breathed a little pained. “I'm almost there. Don't you quit on me.” 

Dean turned his head to the side so he could look Cas in the eye more fully, his wings folded and unfolded down the sides, helping support his body and Cas practically laying on him and looking up. 'Cas.. I just... I really _really_ don't want this if it's gonna hurt you.' He nuzzled his head down to Castiel's chest and belly. Kissing his happy trail and getting a deep whiff of the scents down there. His resolve almost buckled at the sight of his lovers dick standing at attention and practically Cas's whole fist in his asshole.

'Fuck, Cas...' he couldn't help but purr. Cas arched his back up to give Dean's jaw a kiss.

“Please, Dean.. I'm, I'm ready. _Please_?” Cas nodded, kissing the overhead jaw more urgently. “You want me to beg for it?”

Dean didn't know what he wanted. His own member straining against his sheath to come out and claim his mate the old fashioned way. The whimpering coming from Cas was a side that only he got to see. Cas pulled his hand out and inched his way forward to rest on his hands in front of the dragon. Cas's body leaning forward enough to present his rear towards Dean. One knee against the couch back and the other leg stretched down to the ground, foot brushing Dean's clawed toes just behind his heel. Trying to splay as much as possible for Dean. He looked behind himself as Dean was practically vibrating with want and barely there self control. Cas wiggled his ass in the air for a few seconds. “Please, _my love_?”

That did it. Dean's throaty purr turned into a possessive growl as he got to his hands and feet, he knew the couch had no room for this so he got down and aggressively yanked the cushions off and made Cas fall to his side on the springs of the dismantled couch, stunned by the flip, he grinned at Dean making up a comfortable place for Cas to get down on his hands and knees on the ground without worrying about the dirty floor of the shed or discomfort for his hands and knees. Dean was too wide for the cushions but didn't give two shits about himself or the splinters. He dusted off his hands on the back of the couch and wrapped his hands around Castiel's belly, pulling him from the couch and nearly dropping him onto the cushions. Dean was strong, but right now they still weighed about the same so he couldn't hold him up for too long. Cas helped him out by splaying again, getting comfortable and wiggling his ass again at Dean, now almost like taunting. He inwardly congratulated himself on figuring out how to get Dean to move without being pushy. 

Dean admired the view for a few seconds before walking over Cas and hunching down his rear end to properly line them up. Dean was just tall enough to stand over Cas kneeling down with his hands propping up his front half. Dean found his balance before lifted up one hand to pull Castiel's body more flush with his own, the feel of the heated flesh against his cool belly. That warmth along his sheath. He came out and felt it resting on Castiel's back, just over his ass. Dean stroked his thumb over Castiel's nipple as he hugged him closer. His wings drooping down and twitching as they tried to help support the weight of the two bodies. Dean's Drauglin instincts were telling him his mate should be able to hold up the two of them, like females of his specie, but Dean knew that Cas shouldn't have to be asked to do that as well. They may be the same rough size, but Dean's the one with extra appendages so his wings were put to work holding them up. It was the least he could do.

Dean moved Cas forward to let his dick rub inside Cas's cheeks, trying to figure out the best way of doing this. Dean hesitated for just a little too long when Cas pushed back against his dick, feeling it at his entrance and mewling in encouragement and slight impatience. Dean was as slow and gentle as possible as he felt the tight hole allow him in. It was only an inch or two as he panted his way through the urges telling him to go fast and deep. _No_ , at least, not yet. He was also waiting for Cas to tap out, call it off, change his mind but was met with a sigh of relief.

A thrum of that same pleasure from the last time warmed up the two of them as Dean pulled back out, feeling those muscles clamp down all around him. Insisting he goes nowhere at all. He dipped his head down and to the inside and kissed Cas on the mouth, caressing his forked tongue all over to sooth his mate. He withdrew from the kiss and his head and neck straightened out a little as his next thrust was more pointed. Knowing that Cas was in no pain because he didn't scent or feel it in their link. This was probably the only time he would ever feel his dragon member _inside._ Feeling like it's in the right _place_. And he savored every single scent and sound Cas was making. He risked going a little deeper this time and was met with pleased enthusiasm.

Cas felt Dean's other hand and arm come up to as he hugged him from behind. Muscled arms nearly as thick as his own legs wrapping around him in a comfortable embrace as he felt Dean thrust again inside of him. An odd thought of how amazing it was to be claimed this way by the dragon. To know that you are it's world and that it cares so much about you. Cas relaxed his legs and sunk into it.

'I gotcha, Babe. So beautiful.' Dean murmured. He risked unsheathing himself just a little bit more and Cas seemed to be all for it the way he kept on bouncing in his lap. Dean chuckled a little and stilled Cas's movements with a tightening of his arms. 'I got this. Let me do all the work. You'll get your chance to ride in just a minute.'

Cas grumbled but nodded. His ass gripped Dean's dick hard for that, and Dean nearly lost his breath for a second. If that's the way he wants to punish Dean, then so be it. Dean was just thankful as all hell that Dane was cool for buggering off deep into the subconscious until he was called on. A promise for him to be in charge for as long as he wants after they grow in size again. A deal between them that Dean could live with, so long as he got this crucial and limited time with Cas. They simply wont have the chance again in this lifetime. Dean will grow and it will be back to blow jobs alone. Which, wasn't too _bad_ , but still, this seemed more profound of a bond.

Dean could sense that Cas would be into a some light role playing and growled low in his throat, 'You know what? _You're mine._ All mine. I can do whatever I want with you right now.'

“Y-yes. _Yours_.” Cas breathed through the next thrust. Loving the wonderful burn of the stretch Dean's dick caused. He was spoiled on it. No other man could compare. All the sex toys he'd ever had couldn't compare to the damn near dexterity that his lovers dong could do! In the past, he had read up on animals anatomy and one fact kept coming up, some mammals could move their penises around with a purpose, able to _grab_ things, like dolphins could actually pick up things with their dicks. Cas knew without a shadow of doubt that Dean was now tickling the shit out of his prostate on purpose. Cas shuttered through the intense pleasure, agreeing to whatever the fuck Dean says. “Oh fuck me. Fuck me, Dean. Yours. Mmmm _yours_.”

Dean's grin became damn near predatory as he bucked harder into Cas, faster. Never leaving his hole as his ramrod assaulted his mates prostate. He bit his lip until it bled a little from the fangs, slowing down just a fraction to hold onto that warmth that's going through his belly, pooling lower and making him a little dizzy. He could feel himself tipping over the edge, legs getting weak as Cas pushed back into him when his pace stuttered. He was gonna _explode_. One intrusive thought interrupted him for a few seconds as his mate lifted again and clamped down on the head so it wouldn't leave, that thought was, should he cum inside Cas? Would it be too much? Would it hurt? Does Cas really want -

All debate was lost when Cas pushed back hard against Dean, using his arms as leverage to hold Dean inside of himself as he squeezed his hips and ass around the base of Dean's cock. Dean didn't have much of a choice as he came inside Cas with the first burst, then he yanked out of Cas's grip to retreat a little, and came again, stutter thrusting forward, feeling how much of his cum was filling up the hole. He stopped himself from thrusting in further, knowing there was no room. Cas cried out a chocked sound as Dean stopped just inside Cas's entrance. Just enough room for the head of his dick to seal it up. Cas was entirely filled up so Dean reluctantly retreated after his buzz let up a little. He had to let the massive amount of cum drip from the hole. 

Instead of being revolted by the feeling of so much cum coming out, Cas was just alight with pride in his mate. He did however help push some out, feeling and hearing it come out made him jealous and want to do that to Dean right away.

Dean helped him up a little more vertical to let the cum slide out faster. All the while Cas was begging him to come back. 'What- whaddid I do to deserve you?'

“Shut up and get back in there.” Cas growled.

Dean's vision swam in bliss as he gently pushed back into Cas, feeling the muscles greet him again. He was becoming more aware that Cas hadn't cum yet. 'Babe. Come on. I'm good.' he kissed Castiel's cheek and slowly let go of him. 'Lemme clean you up.' he said and guided his lover to the couch in the shed.

“No.” Cas said firmly, getting to his knees and turning around to face Dean. “Later.” he said firmly voice a little strained. He really did not want to talk or debate right now. His dick heavy and ready. He got to his feet and wobbled just a little as he stepped to Dean's side. His hands gripped onto Dean's left wing and he folded it in. Dean quirked an eyebrow at him but understood what he was aiming for. There was no physical way that Cas could mount him dragon style so they'd have to do it with Dean on his back or side. Dean flopped down and laid relatively motionless for a few seconds, still pretty buzzed. Cas used up a bit of strength to push Dean onto his back, Dean let him, seeing how strong Cas could be without Dean's help. They were about the same weight, but Dean was just larger in size with all of the extra appendages.

'Paint me like one of your french girls?' Dean huffed a laugh as he was on his side, wings behind him and awkwardly folding and unfolding, trying to figure out just how to do this. His wings shifted around and provided a decent enough bed to lay on as his head fell out straight and he saw the world upside down with is horns keeping his nose from being able to touch the ground. His dick slowly retracted again, leaving behind a stripe of cum on his belly. He was spent as far as that goes, but this crazy refraction time was kinda unpredictable. Last time he was ready to go within half an hour. For now, it was Cas's turn and he went as pliable as he could for his mate. His tail straightened out a little as well, after feeling how Cas was trying to lay him out flat. He wondered if it was from Cas's lifetime of studying that made him naturally want to lay Dean out for inspection. Dean didn't give two fucks at this point, just curious and willing to see and do what Cas wanted. 

Dean lifted his head and smirked at Cas. 'You look good with my spunk falling down your legs.'

“It's getting cold and sticky.” Cas complained but there was no heat behind it. He just grabbed a discarded rag from the shed, hoped that it was as clean as it looked and wiped himself off a little. Just enough to break up the flow.

'Hey I offered to clean it up for you.' Dean grinned and stuck his forked tongue out fully, winking. 'Better then sex. You see what I can do with this thing?' He asked and literally tied his tongue into a loose knot before unraveling it and lifting his head just high enough to lick a stripe over Castiel's face. 'Man you taste amazing.' Dean hummed, 'Suckle you all day.'

“We'll save that for later.” Cas promised and straddled the middle section of Dean's tail, walking up the dragons body and stopping just before the half tucked hind legs. His hands tentatively dipped down to the soft scales as he probed around, looking for the entrance. His camouflaged skin tones hid this as well.

'Can't find it?' Dean chuckled. 

Cas frowned and prodded further, poking his fingers on all of the scales the looked promising. “Fuck. I give up.”

Dean sighed and grumbled as if being asked to do a chore, 'Gotta do everything myself.' and propped up his front half with his elbows just enough to give his head and neck the ability to dip in closer. He looked between his own legs and frowned, ok... so he never actually watched himself poop before. He bucked his hips up to jar Castiel from his snickering. He concentrated and puckered his asshole and grinned triumphantly when the space at the base of his tail moved. Cas spotted it and placed his fingers on the spot, moving them around and finding their mark. It was similar to his sheath, surrounded by smaller scales that felt more like silk then anything.

Dean nodded and laid back down only to spot the cushions and made himself a little back rest so he could watch Cas work. Cas felt like he was straddling a log and tried to get comfortable, sitting on the underside of Dean's tail as it then curled up like a chair's backrest. The end of the tail curling around his left foot that then grabbed it with the dexterous toes to keep both up and away. Cas angled himself down lower and aligned up his member with Dean's hole, looking up at the mirth in Dean's eyes. Cas waited for his permission which Dean gave in the form of puckering his asshole again and pushing the base of his tail against Cas's back. A sign to hurry the hell up. Cas dipped in a finger, found that Dean was wider then that and slipped in two more, easily. Dean rolled his eyes.

'I'm good Love, don't worry about me.' Dean said and got settled a bit further. 'Give you a hundred bucks if you can find my prostate, Big Boy.'

Dean's teasing had the desired effect as Cas immersed himself inside the hole. He leaned forward and grunted at the angle, adjusting himself and bending his knees better to ride the tail that pushed him forward again, but at a more leisurely pace. Dean massaged Cas's dick on the inside for a few seconds before letting go and allowing Cas back out to thrust in again on his own. He was practically preening with self pride on how great this body was when it comes to sex with a non-Drauglin. The females must be hard to please... Then felt pride in his mates ability to just go with it and leave all of the feelings of taboo behind since it was just the two of them here. Judgment free zone. Free to figure out how their bodies work together and make it work for the pleasure and comfort of both. Cas nearly came when his lover did that thing with his shaft, _fer fucks sake_... again?! Dean actually made his colon seem tighter to stimulate his cock, grunting as if it hurt due to Cas's size. Cheeky bastard. Of course Castiel knew his own was on the larger scale for penis's, Balth confirmed one drunken night of public urination, and it wasn't anyone's fault that a Drauglin's pooper shooter was just bigger then a humans'. When Dean's human again? He'll pay for this harmless teasing. Cas felt confident enough to tease right back a little breathlessly, “Always knew - you were a giant – asshole.”

Dean's laugh jostled him around and he punched the nearest leg for that and the clawed foot let go of the tail, letting it flop back to the ground to writhe quietly like a bliss-ed out snake. Castiel then reached out and gripped each hind foot in a firm fist, he pulled them to each side of his body, wheel barrel fashion but with Dean facing up. Cas then proceeded to grind and hump the shit out of Dean, stopping the huffing laugh and starting the lust blown pupils and pants. Cas paused just long enough to scoot forward and thrust deeper, and wonder of wonders, he found Dean's prostate and aimed for that for a solid _minute_. Dean was left quivering and begging for more. Cas loved every little sound and feeling that was floating around in the air. Hands letting go of Dean's calves to stroke the sides of the sheath. The smell of sex intoxicating. Dean's knees came in just a little as he pulled Cas into himself, feeling and knowing that Cas was damned close and wanted to be filled up by him. Cas loved sinking into Dean with no fear of hurting him, on the contrary, since he didn't have to hold back, they both were lost in lust and love. Cas pushed in as hard as he could and was tipped over the edge, Dean's muscles pulling at his cock in the most delicious way, milking him for all he's got. The term busting a nut had never been so accurate. Dean took it _all_.

His eyesight blurred, the feeling of warm soft scales greeting his bare chest as he laid down onto Dean's belly, hand tracing the side of the sheath, tickling it a little at Dean's dazed annoyance. He was sensitive down there now just as Cas is about to be and stimulating it anymore was just plain _mean_.

Cas hummed and grazed his fingers elsewhere, not yet wanting to leave the nice comfortable place his hips were and Dean debated whether or not to lay on his side again. They stayed there, heavy breaths slowing down, a pleased thrum filing the air between them. Dean was the first to move and nudged Cas in the side with his left knee, only getting a tired grumble with that sex rough voice. Dean nudged him on the other side with his right knee and lifted up his tail to drape over Castiel's shoulder. Cas batted away the legs and shrugged at the tail that was just too heavy and insistent to be knocked off. Dean wrapped his tail a little more firmly around Cas and he started to rock side to side. Cas was a little slow on the uptake when Dean got to his right side and pinned Cas to his belly with his tail before turning again to make himself upright. Dean took a step forward to see how well he could walk with a passenger stuck to him like that. 

Cas yelped at being inverted like that and gripped onto Dean's sides and his arms as best he could with weak fingers. “Dean?!”

Feigning innocence, Dean tiredly trilled, 'What, I told you to get up.' then took another step, this time towards the door. 'Wonder how old McDonald will react to seeing a guy willing to screw animals on his farm.' Dean chided and had a little difficulty walking due to the awkward placement of his passenger. 'Think he'll mind if you check out his ponies?'

“Dean! You asshole!” Cas squirmed and was finally dropped down onto the bed of discarded couch cushions. Dean landing nearby and laughing.

'Come on, let's get you cleaned up.' Dean then easily flipped Cas over so that he was laying on his stomach and parted his cheeks before dipping his nose down and then his tongue. He worked quickly, spitting it all out off to the side. He wasn't really into felching, but he did want Cas to be able to sit down and not wet the seats. 'Damn that was a lot of dragon gizz. You alright?' Dean kissed Castiel's back and chirped softly, 'You need to tell me if anything's wrong.'

“I'm fine.” Cas rolled his eyes. He knew what he was getting into. Remembering that day when the hybrid had a wet dream and the large puddle of seed on the ground the next day. Proportionally, it was gallons, but this time, he knew it was still quite a lot, and didn't care. Dean simply couldn't have another chance to top. Ever. That thought made him act the way he did. He hoped Dean enjoyed himself. That this was memorable and good. Dean's little happy sounds were confirmation enough as he worked away.

'Mine.' Dean murmured and kissed the fleshy cheek. 'Also mine.' He kissed the other one. The deeper feeling that he got when claiming his property sent a chill up his spine. Logically, he knows that it was roll playing, the 'dragon hoarding its prize', but a part of him that was getting louder everyday, felt it as something more. Cas was _his_. The human belonged to him. Dean shut out the part that added to that in a way that wasn't entirely romantic, Dean owned Cas. That same part insisting that Cas claimed it too. Confirmed it. From Cas's own lips, he said that he was Dean's. That possessive part of Dean got a little louder as he rubbed his hands along Cas's sides. Feeling how well his mate felt. How good of a specimen of man he held. How the man had let him have his way with his body. His mouth gave one last lick to the parted cheeks and he hummed in pleasure. 'You are mine.' He said, almost like a question.

Cas turned a little, smiling up at Dean and pulled the long nose down closer, “And you are mine.” He said and kissed the end of Dean's mouth, rubbing his thumbs along Dean's cheeks and jawline. He saw something in Dean's eyes, a kind of spark light up and dissipate. Like Dean was having some kind of revelation.

Dean looked upset for just a second before grinning back down at his lover. 'Yours.' he affirmed, 'Forever.' Cas tugged Dean's head until the long neck and head were laying on his bare chest, his huge forelegs wrapping themselves around his bent legs behind the knees. Dean was just so damned long. Wings coming down to drape them in its blanket-like covering. 'Don't let me forget it.' Dean mumbled, nearly inaudibly, almost like a plea.

Cas tilted his head a little, what an odd thing to say. But, if Dean wanted to hear that he was wanted, who was he to say otherwise? “Ok.” 

They laid like that for a little longer. Peacefully dozing until Cas became a little more uncomfortable at the weight. Dean shuffled a little, feeling his 'bed' getting restless. He lifted up his head, propping himself up on his forearms that were still hugging Cas's legs, but now noticing that they were getting smaller.

'Fuuuhhh _uuuck_.' he grumbled and let go of Cas as the still naked human backed up from the growing body. 'Better get your clothes on, quick.' Dean advised and shook his body of the tingles. He saw the door to the shed getting steadily smaller and stepped over Cas to get to it before he could no longer fit through it. He just managed to fit and stood outside, inhaling the fresh air and listening to Cas still inside the shed, pondering out loud where the hell his cell phone went.

'I'll have Sammy call it.' Dean said and started walking. All the while the surroundings were getting slowly smaller, having to take fewer steps. 'Fuck... fuck.' he growled. 'Just stop already!' he paused and cursed out his body as it just now started to slow its expanding session. He was now about as big as an elephant in body, with a giraffe head and neck. 'Great.'

 

Sam heard his brother coming closer, cursing for some reason and met him in front of the farm house just as Balthazar was leaving it. He lifted up his hands to his sides at the sight of Dean. Almost like he was asking the gods why they liked to screw around with his brother. There was no way the truck could haul him in the bed now. His arms dropped again. “Shit.”

'Tell me about it.' Dean shrugged. No one's fault, so it was best to just deal with it. 'Can you call Cas's phone? He lost it when we were – uh – checking out the area.' He finished lamely. Thankfully Sam didn't ask questions and called Cas's phone.

Bobby, Rufus, and the farmer exited the house and saw how big Dean was now. The hunters sighed collectively, and the farmer just went right back inside. The big dog barreled outside barking up a storm right up until it screeched to a halt at the sight of the intruder now. Dean lowered his head, and growled at the dog in his most bloodthirsty way and enjoyed watching it pee itself as it fled the area. 'Yeah you better run!' Dean roared after it.

Sam rolled his eyes and said, “You done?”

Dean puffed up his chest and roared again just for the hell of it. Damn it kinda felt good to be big again.

“Alright, alright. Better get to the truck if you want to eat today. All that meat we bought wont fill you up if you grow more. Unless... you want to hunt your own food? Give yourself some training techniques on how to kill something big? I'm sure as hell not going to spar with you.” Sam said, folding his arms.

Dean wondered if Sam really was going to make him hunt his own food. Probably. Well. Shit. 'I have the utmost faith in Dane.'

At the mention of his name, Dane appeared as if by magic. Wings coming to attention and posture improved. 'Bought time.' he muttered, looking around himself. 'Oh. Bigger now. That's super!' he said and walked around a little. He noticed Castiel and avoided his gaze. He did not want to talk to that biped just yet. Not when his nethers are reeking of sex. Fuck, can humans pick up on it? Or is it the fact that he's worried about it that will make them suspect? Blast.

“Dane?” Sam asked.

'Yes?' Dane answered back, scenting something from the human, deciding to ignore it since it just smelled like more male hormone releases. Did they ever take a break from that activity? 

“There's food in the truck, let's get you fed.”

'Great! I'm starved.' he chirped happily as he practically skipped over to the large truck and stuck his head into the cab. Easily finding the groceries and plundering the shit out of them. He refused to admit out loud that Dean must have worked the body into an appetite. Just for that, he's planning on staying in control for the rest of the day. Dean already promised and he had his fun. He could feel Dean inside the shared mindspace, taking a nap with a stupid grin on his face. Humans. He fondly shook his head at the lot of them. I mean sure, they're cute and cuddly, but damn are they grounded in base instincts. Food, sex, and sleep. At least they had perfected the methods for them, their nests were comfortable as hell, their food is always amazing, and apparently having intercourse with them is also mind blowing since Dean's still giving off all kinds of sweet euphoric bliss. And he's not even _awake_!

The food went too quickly, delicious and moist in those tasteless packages, but he could tell it had been dead for awhile and detected hints of preservatives as well as a chill to the larger meats. Like they had been frozen not long ago. It didn't quite fill him up so he looked around for something else to satisfy his hunger. 

Sam saw the dragon wolf down the food too fast, worried that ingesting all of that paper wrapping would block his system up. He then saw Dane zero in on the horses, that gleam of hunger in his large green eyes. “Whoa! No! You can't eat them, they aren't ours.”

Dane raised an eyebrow at Sam. 'Can't I? That farmer chased Dean around with a gun, made his dog attack us and we can't retaliate?' Dane huffed a little angrily. 'It's not like he'll miss one horse.' and started walking to the corral, Sam running to catch up.

“Dane! Please! We've done enough to this poor guy's house as it is!” Sam reached the corral's gate at the same time and held up a hand to stop his advance. “We'll get you some more food, be patient, please?”

The dragon lifted up a lip at Sam, showing off some fangs. 'It's just _one horse_.' he stated firmly and only had to jump a little to get over the 6 foot tall fence. The horses fled further away, to the far corner of the field, bucking their legs in the air and screaming, trying to escape the advancing terror. 

“Stop!” Sam called over, scaling the fence when the lock refused to budge. By this time, the others heard the commotion and also ran over. The others lined the fence, debating if they should stop the dragon by force, if they even could, or if that would drive Dane into leaving them for good. 

Cas was still a little weak in the knees but managed to scramble over the fence as well, wanting to explain to the others what's going on but not entirely sure himself. This was turning into a delicate situation before their eyes. “Sam?”

Sam looked over at Cas who was jogging after them both, “Dane's out of control, he wants to eat one of the horses!”

“Sam,” Cas said a little more urgently, silently telling Sam to get closer so they could talk about it. Sam grit his teeth and let Cas catch up as the dragon was hunching down, several hundred feet away now, obviously trying to pick out the best one to take down. He may be bigger now, but a well placed horses kick is nothing to shrug off. Still, the meat on the smaller one's might not satisfy and he gave his word that he'd only take one. One of the horses managed to jump over the fence and is now booking it for the horizon. Two others trying to do the same, but not getting the height with no real distance to get a running start. The smaller ones trying to hide under or behind the larger ones in the frenzy. Shetland ponies kicking up the most dirt. 

Castiel whispered urgently, “Sam, that's not our Dean. I know you know that, but, Dane doesn't need us anymore. He probably doesn't really care if he's with us or not. Making an issue over one horse... it just, doesn't make sense. I don't want to see anything get killed just for one meal, but what would your rather have? Him, with us, hungry and resentful? Or without us, fed and free?” Cas tilted his head at Sam, trying to get through to the tall hunter that this shouldn't be an issue when they are so close to the finish line. If they annoy Dane into leaving now, they might never find him again. 

Sam suspected that Dane is in full control, Dean would have said something by now if he could. Dean actually likes horses, rode a few back when they were kids with their father. Dean even liked the mule rides in Arizona, even if his kept on farting and making both kids laugh hysterically. Sam likes dogs, Dean likes horses, like in his favorite western movies. Sam knew that if Dane took one down that Dean would be very upset and pissed. The tentative balance between them could shatter and it's anyone’s guess who'd win control over the body. 

Sam looked over to Dane as his side fan ear quirked in their direction. So he spoke up a little louder in his 'private' conversation to Cas. “All I'm saying, Cas, is that Dean might be allergic to horses. There's no telling what could happen if he eats one!” It wasn't exactly a lie, Dane would be able to tell immediately if they lied by just scenting the air. 

Dane didn't sound convinced and went back to hunting. Probably never even heard of allergies or confident that he couldn't possibly be allergic to any animal. 

Cas made his voice a little louder as well. “Look, that's just one possibility. The point is is that no one in our group thinks him eating a horse is a good idea. See? All of his friends are over there, wanting us to come back out of here and leave the genetically modified animals alone.” Cas's mind raced for a way to get the dragon out of here without anyone getting hurt. They'd still need to find him some food and soon. His first job was to make the fresh easy meat in front of the Drauglin as unappetizing as possible. “Those horses are probably so pumped up with growth hormones, tetanus antitoxin, Equine anthelemintic, animalintex, west nile antivirus, and who knows what else, I mean, what they do to them now-a-days. Yuck. I wouldn't want to eat it.” Cas spat out into the grass and was a little happy to see the dragon pause and consider the words, since Dean wasn't in control, the 'big words' would imply things more horrible then they were. Cas wasn't about to correct himself that all of those things help horses get and stay healthy. 

Dane looked behind himself, listening a little closer. A hint of doubt making its way in his head. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Cas pressed on, “If Dane wants to eat one stupid disease prone horse, that's his choice. We'll just have to find our own way in the cruel world. Alone. Without our protector. Because we don't know how to keep him from getting sick and potentially dying from eating one of those horses.”

Sam elbowed his side a little for the extra comments. Cas changed gears, “We, too, will have to figure out how to save his mother by ourselves. It will be hard, and probably impossible, but if Dane insists on eating one of those horses and possibly getting sick from all the stuff they pump into their bodies, then we have no choice but to rescue her without him, and likely die trying.” 

Sam was impressed and noticed Dane straightening up a little, turning more fully towards the two humans in the pasture. Another horse was able to jump over the fence and that drew his attention for a moment. Giving Sam and Cas and all the others heart attacks that his instincts will kick in and chase it down now that it's more exciting prey. But Dane huffed out of his nose and turned completely and stalked off back towards the group. Looking like he wanted to body check the two, he instead let them be and jumped back over the fence again. His stomach grumbled at him and he snarled right back.

'Well? You got me back here, hungry, and ticked that you denied me an easy kill.' Dane harrumphed. 'What's your plan?'

Cas and Sam jogged back to the gate and Balthazar helped them over it again. Patting Cas on the back once he was on the ground. Dane squinted at that but Cas quickly said, “We uh... we go back to the store real quick and take all of their protein department, then do the same to the next store we come across.”

Bobby frowned a little but kept his mouth shut until Dane was out of hearing. “This is how monsters get caught. They leave a trail of odd occurrences. Usually bodies, but when the guys hunting us see this pattern of stores running out of massive amounts of meat all in a row?” He let it hang. They'd have to think of something else after the second store. Mix up their MO.

Sam was already on that wavelength and started up his laptop, looking for the local stores or meat lockers. Rufus pat Bobby's shoulder and led him to the other side of the farm to talk. “How did you feed him before?”

“We had cows delivered to my house, and guess what? Azazel probably found out we had him that way!” Bobby fumed, “It's the same way we found out that the military had him! Sam followed the trail of livestock right to the base. They weren't as careful with their tracks because who in their right mind goes after the US military with less then half a dozen people?”

“We do.” Rufus smirked. “So what? You gonna jus let the boy starve until we get him changed back?”

“No! I'm jus saying... we should let 'im do his own hunting. Deer populations aren't as easy to estimate as livestock that all have ID tags, and bills of sale.”

“Could always sic him on gators down south. Do some real good getting rid of those toothy bastards.”

Bobby was about to retort but it died on his tongue. That was actually a good idea. If it weren’t for the fact that crocs and gators are all in the southern swampy states... any in the northern states are on farms, and aren’t easy to come by. Still... free food and help the locals against the wild ones. “Alright. If we can figure out how to get some of those free range gators up here, I'm all for it. In the mean time, lets do some research on what animals around here wont be missed.”

Rufus nodded and went to Sam to tell him his idea. Dane listened in and his mouth was already salivating. 'I don't know what a gator is but count me in! Something that has some fight in it? Yes!' he chirped and practically danced in place, totally unlike the Dane they know. He must really be hungry and desperate for a challenge. 

Balth went to ask the farmer if he'd heard of any wild animals causing trouble and remembered to fetch Bobby to translate for him. Apparently there were no alligators or crocodiles but there was an abundance of wild boar in the forests to the west, hugging the mountain range. It was a constant struggle for farmers out that way because wild boar could eat or destroy an entire crop over a weekend. It was less then a days drive away so the group set about finding appropriate transportation for the dragon. 

The farmer was more then relieved to get rid of them all and would get his two runaway horses sooner or later from his neighbors or just wait till they return on their own. Anything to get that monster away. He accepted the cash for repairs and didn't need too much discussion to keep the dragon's secret. Mainly they just threatened that if he did tell anyone, the dragon would be back for him and his livestock. They'd never do it, but they needed to do something to keep a lid on this whole thing. The farmer agreed readily to keep quiet and they left his property just as the sun started to set. The rest of that day before that had been spent buying up all protein from the store and one of the neighbor farms a mile down the road. It fed Dane enough for another day and he dozed in the sun since he'd have to run while the others got to drive during the night.

The sun had gone down and the group was into their second hour driving. Dane was falling behind terribly now. His cockiness made him jackrabbit start instead of taking it easy. Now, they were on gravel roads and slowed to a crawl whenever they passed near a farm so the owners wouldn't wake up. Dane couldn't help making tracks in the dirt and had to be reminded several times to hide them with his tail. 

Cas leaned out of the Impala and said, “If you don't want to be careful where you walk, you can always let Dean back in control. He's pretty good at being stealthy.” 

He got a low insulted growl for that. Dane flicked his tail back and forth with more vigor then necessary and kicked up dust and gravel everywhere, raining down on the car and truck for a couple hundred yards. 

“That's it.” Bobby punched the dash and ordered Rufus to stop, halting the convoy. He climbed out and grabbed his cane, stalking over to the dragon and frowning heavily at him. 

Dane actually stopped and cowered a little under the glare he was getting. 

“What!” Bobby shouted, arms lifting to the sides, demanding Dane answer for himself. “What is it? What's wrong this time?! What has got your knickers in a twist?! What is so damned important that you'd risk your own safety over? We are trying to keep you hidden! Fed! Then we're going to risk our lives to save your mother! The same dragon that took my boy from us and in the process set hunter against hunter!” Bobby started a small pace in front of Dane waiting for an answer.

Dane knew that Bobby couldn't understand him and even if he could, Dane didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know why he was acting up and not listening to the group. 'Nothing.' he mumbled, 'Sorry.' and hunched down a little, feeling depressed and upset that he ticked off one of the group's leaders with his actions and attitude. 

All of the anger left Bobby in a rush at the sight of Dane feeling so lost. Dane wasn't Dean. Would never be Dean. But he'd be damned if he didn't look as upset as Dean would be at getting a dressing down from his surrogate father. Bobby couldn't stop frowning but it was for yelling at the overgrown kid instead of asking a little more levelheaded. “It's fine. We ain't gonna leave you and we ain't gonna blame you for getting upset.” 

Dane jus knew there was a 'but' coming. His eyes went wide at what came out instead. “If you want to talk, about anything, we'll listen to ya, Boy.” and watched as Bobby walked closer and laid a hand on his arm. Bobby grinned a little and pat the arm before letting go and taking a few steps back. Clearly waiting for dialog. 

'I uh, I don't know... why I'm always a little angry.' he looked to Sam when he translated his words, 'I'll be good.'

Sam's heart nearly stopped at that familiar phrase. He got out of the car too and strode up to the dragon who leaned back a little, half expecting to get punched with how forceful the actions were. Sam sent up a bitchface and hugged the crap out of his arm. Dane could feel the human tremble a little and scented numerous feelings coming from him. Sam let go and then took a swing at Dane's arm, barely registering as a punch but it looks like it hurt Sam's hand and he sent up another bitchface. His hand waving around to lessen the sting of hitting hardened scales.

'What? I didn't tell you to punch me!' Dane backed up from the suddenly violent human.

“You wanna get mad? You get mad! You wanna be left alone? We'll give you space, but don't you ever think that we wont be there for you. Because you know what? This shit sucks! It's ok to be pissed! You don't have to 'be good' for us! Just let us help! Like family does for each other!” Sam was brimming with emotion and strode forward to punch Dane's arm again. “And don't let me catch you thinking your feelings don't matter! If you need us to do something, _for fucks sake tell us_!” Sam then faced Bobby who held up his hands in defense, a punch from Sam would send the old hunter on his ass in a heartbeat. “That goes for you too. And all of you!” he pointed an accusing finger at the car and truck. 

Balth muttered something about being alright with life in general and asked Cas if Sam was feeling ok. 

Cas mumbled back, “It's been an emotional year.” and nodded minutely. He exited the car next and went up to the two hunters, “Now that that's settled, should we get going before the sun comes up?” he suggested in a way that wasn't patronizing, more like, giving his two cents. Sam and Bobby agreed and everyone looked up at Dane who was still sitting, dumbfounded at the response he got.

'Sure.' He quietly chirped and stood up again. He looked around the area and was pleased that they were surrounded by empty fields. No one heard this rather loud discussion. They stood out, but only if someone was awake and looking in that direction. The night was still heavy and the only lights were from their headlights and the nearly full moon. They continued on down the road, all of them stealing glances out the back windows to make sure that Dane was still following them. He looked a little sad but hid his face by simply walking too close to the Impala with his head over the car. Large legs walking along for a few minutes before he had the idea of going in between the two vehicles. That way the Impala's tire marks would hide most of his foot prints or at least break the pattern up. They ended up stealing a flatbed trailer from the tenth farm they ran across and not feeling so bad because it had a large, 'for sale' sign on it. When they're done, they will return it. Probably. 

Dane laid out on it and was covered up by a large tarp, the wind flapping up the corners and annoying the hell out of him after the 150 th mile or so. At least his feet got a rest from the very long walk. Finally, they stopped and found evidence of wild boar right off the side of the road. They read that boar don't care about hiding their tracks, if they are anywhere in the area, there will be blatant evidence. Balthazar had borrowed Sam's laptop and found a few potential herds in the area through the online newspapers. Dane was off like a shot and had fun hunting the herd down. His instincts were singing and he zeroed in on them with relative ease. The herd was huge and he had fun hunting every last one of them down. Even if he didn't need to eat them, the reports of how dangerous they were to people, wildlife, and crops spurred him on. He chased them down and woke up Dean long enough to offer him a chance to hunt. Ducking back into the head in mid leap.

'Wait? _What!_?' Dean landed hard on his hands, front half nearly landing in the dirt as well. His hind quarters lifted just too high to make a graceful landing. He stumbled a few more steps, legs splaying out to stay relatively upright, before he screeched to a halt, watching two big male boars plow into the woods. He looked around himself, utterly lost. 'What the hell... where are we?'

In the head space he could feel Dane's irritation but the connection was too weak for words at the moment. 

Dean looked down at his hands half buried in the dirt. 'There's blood. Holy crap there's blood everywhere! Dane! What the hell did you do?! It's in my mouth. Oh shit, fuck. there's blood. And... oh _fuck,_ there's chunks of - ' he threw up a little and saw the small puddle of sick in the grass, a half digested leg got stuck in his teeth which sent him into another vomiting fit. 'You... you ate... I ate. You made me eat...' he swallowed hard again. Flashing to memories of blood and bodies strewn about a different field, victims of a feral rugaru attack. Jolting to the fact that he's in the body of a monster. One that could hunt people as easy as breathing. 'Just... just tell me we didn't eat anyone.' his tongue reluctantly plucking stray hairs from his teeth, spitting them out and moaning with disgust.

The insulted internal roar was a relief to hear. Seeing this much blood and unidentified chunks of flesh made his skin crawl. 'What the fuck?! Did you think I wanted to eat raw whatever-the-fuck-this-is?!'

He felt a shrug and then an urge to keep hunting. 

'No. No no. _Hell no_. You leave me out of this. Just wake me up when Bobby's turned this hairy pig into a porkloi - ' he looked around at nothing but wilderness and torn up earth, the bodies of half a dozen pig like things all around him. 'Wait, where are we? Don't tell me...Dane you motherfu- did you ditch everybody?!'

He felt a pull and let Dane come to the fore, knowing that now that he's awake in the head he can hear Dane talk. 

Wings pulled in, a shake of his head, 'No, Dean, I did not _ditch_ our _family_.' Dane huffed a little angrily that Dean would also suggest it like the others were yesterday. 'I'd have thought by now you of all humans would trust me. I'm not some _stupid animal_.' Dane picked up the trail of the two remaining boar, resuming the chase. Between leaps he practically roared, 'If you're done judging me, I got some business to take care of. _One of us_ decided to throw up our only food source for the next few days.' And with that, Dane's mouth opened wide, flammable saliva shooting out of its own volition, before he chomped down on one boar, then threw it onto the other, catching up in the next step to bite down on that one next. Fangs practically meeting in the middle of the animal. He sorely wanted to set fire to them, just to remind Dean that he could have had a cooked meal if the sparker teeth were still there. As it is... 'You may want to cover your eyes, _princess_.' Dane snapped out.

Dean was about to retort but seeing the first large chunk of flesh being ripped from the body made him shut his mouth and slam the imaginary door closed to the outside world. He wondered where Dane got his sass from, maybe Balth. Maybe Rufus. Anything to distract himself from the surreal feeling of himself getting full from a meal that Dane is eating. Something twitched in his belly and he tried to think of _anything_ else instead. Certainly not the movie Alien with a monster popping out of his chest, certainly not. The churning feeling died out after a minute of him humming a Metallica song over and over. Finding himself sitting on the grass, holding his leather boots and rocking back and forth with the wind. He knew why he felt so damned unnerved about having something living in his stomach, too much like what he went through with Mother. Forced against his will into the Drauglin's mouth, going down the throat, fighting the whole way as much as he could with his limited space and awareness. Everything going black. He hugged his middle and moaned quietly. When will this nightmare _end_??

After a few minutes, or hours, it's hard to tell in there – Dean was aware that Dane was talking again. Softly, like he wasn't sure if he should. Dane must have been picking up on some of his thoughts or feelings, or took a peek at his human half, hunched over and wishing he was _anywhere_ else.

Dane sighed, long since done with his meal, after that last boar, he made sure that the rest of the ones back there were _dead_ dead so they'd go down without a fuss. Dean didn't seem to like the internal squirming anymore then he did. He assumed that male boar died quickly. He'll have to be more careful with Dean around. He sighed, thinking about the human, the future. 'I'm scared.' he admitted quietly, 'What's going to happen. I mean, I want you to be happy, human again if that's what you want, but. What about me?' 

Dean looked up at the mindscapes sky, listening. Dane's voice like an echo.

'Am I selfish to think of myself? I think about you all the time. Worry about you. You're not fit to be a Drauglin. You get uneasy around dead animals.'

Dean uncurled at that, standing up and holding out his hands for the Drauglin to stop, “Whoa, hang on. That's not true. I killed plenty of bad monsters in the past. I'm not scared of dead things. I just... don't like... killing animals.”

Dane thought about that for a moment. 'But you eat meat? Something called a cheeseburger?'

“I didn't kill it myself. Bobby's pretty good at hunting deer and preparing the meat. There's all kinds of businesses and people that do that with pigs, chickens, and cows mainly, for everyone. Slaughterhouses. Butcher shops. Animals raised solely for human food.” Dean shrugged a little, wondering if he'd go vegetarian if he had to hunt for his supper. Sammy would like that, the salad eating moose.

Dane licked his lips. 'Really? Others do the work for you? We should go there.' Dane tried to joke but Dean could hear the diversion loud and clear since their shared heart started beating harder. 

“No, stay on target Blue Leader. This isn’t about me eating Bambi. What's on your mind. What are you afraid of?”

Dane shifted his stance, sniffing out the trail he took into the woods and debating if he should just ignore Dean and go back to the others, carry as much leftover meat as he could for their lunch later. Or his lunch, humans were so picky in what they eat. 

“Dane. Stop ignoring me dammit. I'm not just some stray thought in your head.” He kicked at a nearby tree. “Or if you wanna think of me as your conscious, call me Jiminy Cricket. Talk to me, I might have an answer.”

'Jiminy Cricket?' Dane chirped perplexedly. 'Where have I heard... oh, mother's name. Cricket.'

“Mother's name is Cricket?” he felt Dane's confirmation. “Huh. Is it 'cause she chirps kinda like one? I kinda remember that. I'll have to tell the guys. Or you could. I know that minute of me hunting didn't mean you were done yet at the wheel. Promise is a promise, you can stay out as long as you like. I wont get in your way.”

Dane grinned a little. Glad Dean was being so giving. He took a chance, sensing the human was willing to listen. 'You want to know what I'm thinking?' he felt a nod of sorts. 'I'm scared that I'm going to disappear, when you get your body back.' he slowly started walking back to the others. 'I'm scared that you wont be the same after the spell. I'm scared that if we do split, I die without you as the glue. And... I'm absolutely _terrified_ that I'll live and you'll die.'

Dean stood there, looking up at the sky as it turned a sickly shade of grayish yellow, the signs of a storm. It started sprinkling in the mindscape as he felt the body drag one foot in front of the other as if it was marching to his grave. 

'If it will save you... I will give up my life. It wasn't much anyway. I am just a monster... there's no real place for me in the world, or any of us Drauglin's. Humans have tamed the earth, there's no need for us Tenders anymore.' Dane frowned deeply, thoughts swirling downwards, feeling his fellow passenger at unrest. 'Don't worry about it. It's nothing. Just... forget I said anything.' Dane perked up his walk, striding past trees when he realized that at some point, he had grown taller then most of them. 'Shit.'

“Dane? We are going to fix this. There is a place for you. Dammit! Would you listen? You have to keep going. Keep fighting. It's just bad day today, it'll get better. I promise. It'll be alright in the end. We're going to do the spell, change me back and you can go back to living free, in the wild. We'll figure out a way for you to keep the Drauglin side of the body. You're gonna be alright.”

'Away from you.'

Dean shrugged, “Aw, Dude, you wouldn't want me around anyway. I'm a jerk. Side's you'd have better luck with the ladies without me looking over your shoulder.”

Dane was silent, still plodding along, watching the scenery get smaller bit by bit, growing again. 

“Dane? It's alright.” Dean said, patting a nearby tree and squinting up at the rain falling down. The wind was picking up, signaling distress. “You are not alone.” 

'But, I will be.'

“Sam, Cas, and I will come visit. All of us, Bobby'll have to get his physical therapy sessions done so he can hike with us when we come out to see you. We'll set it up perfect. You just tell us when and where once everything settles.” Dane was still silent, “Did you want to go back to Harkade valley? The place where we were born? Or maybe... I'm getting an image of an island?” The body stiffened up slightly, hesitantly resuming it's walk. “What Island is that?”

Surrounded by mental silence that drew out, the rain even stuttered in falling before picking up again and it turned into a full downpour, Dean thought he wasn't in any danger, but still found a tree to stand under. 

“Dane. What Island.” Dean shouted at the sky. “It's like a... I don't know, communal gathering spot? For Drauglin's?”

A low growl vibrated the ground.

“Why are you so pissed off? Why didn't you tell me about it straight off the bat?”

Dane stopped his angry stride to growl outward and inwardly at Dean. 'Because you humans are Hunters! You kill monsters! Why the hell would I tell you where to find our - ' Dane stopped abruptly. If Dean didn't know what it was for, he wasn't telling. Problem was, Dean was literally in his damned head.

“You find mates there. If you can't find them in the wild you find them there. That's where you have real Drauglin babies. No hybrids with animals or people. A purer kind of offspring.” The wind knocked him on his ass, several trees were uprooted and fell around him. The roar of wind and the crack of the ground made Dean start to get really fuckin' scared. Dane was furious and terrified. Dean shouted right back through the storm, “Why would we want to hunt the protectors of the world? Humans are doing a shit job of it! We got rid of thousands of species! Most of them were just because we didn't care enough to learn what we were doing to the lands and seas! Why would we kill off the only things that are trying to balance nature?” Dean braced himself on the tallest tree he could get to, watching the beginnings of a tornado swirl in the sky. “Are you going to kill me, Dane?”

The sky slowly stopped swirling, the wind dying out to a stiff gust then to a gentle breeze. Dean nervously inched away from the tree trunk. The rain too petered out to nothing. He didn't dare say anything else. Convinced if Dane really wanted to, he probably could keep Dean from being out, put unconscious entirely. Make him essentially brain dead with constant assaults on his psyche. The storm abated and the sky slowly cleared of clouds, not all, there was still a heavy mist in the air and he was worried this was a different kind of mental attack. 

A voice whispered around his area, hardly loud enough, 'I don't want to kill you.'

The phrase so heavy with meaning and emotion. Dean was still breathing harshly and looking up and around himself. Trying to control his environment like he did before, he was too drained for that from the attack. He slid down the tree to sit at it's roots. Patting the ground and taking a breath, “I don't want to kill you either, Big Guy.”

The sensation of a burden relieving sigh swept through the land around Dean as Dane, in the outside world, sighed deeply. He hoped that Dean got the message clear enough, that he didn't want to hurt any Hunters, didn't want them anywhere near the Island for fear of having to choose a side in that slaughter. Nothing would survive. Humans wouldn't stand a chance in the inferno, and it's likely that their own babies would die in the fire as well. There's no telling if the Drauglin's would surrender if it meant their kids would live, but they couldn't live without the parents teaching them, guiding them. He knew his Mother did it, but she was at least old enough to leave her nest when she looked after her sisters, and even then, one of them died. It was probably luck that saved aunt Ness.

“Ness? Like _Nessy_? She's that sea creature Drauglin? Why did Cricket name her after the Lock Ness monster? Cause this was what... just 50 years ago right? Or was it the hibernation before that... our Ness can't be _the Lock Ness_ right? Is she gonna be there?”

Dane stiffened up slightly before relaxing. Dean's just curious, not gathering information on how to kill his Drauglin aunt. 'Yes. I hope so. She swims while we are mostly on the land. Phoenix was meant for the air, birdlike. She died very young when she was hunting a fox.' Dane started walking again. 'It's why Mother always told me to be careful when hunting. I only know what Mother taught me when I was also very young. I think she didn't want to risk me not knowing...' the rest of that thought hung in the air. The reason behind her caution proved true, her son did leave the nest before he was grown and able to properly fend for himself. 

He opened up a little to Dean, knowing that he really is on their side, letting information flow between them with more ease. He could feel Dean shiver with the flood of knowledge and genetic history.

“Stop! Stop stop. Ok, too much. Slow down.” Dean rubbed at his head. “Cas would kill for this info.” he felt the body inhale sharply and amended, “Figurative! Not actually kill. Here, you sent me your memories, let's see if I can't give you some of mine, starting with the weird world of English phrases.” he smirked and had to practice a bit to get his mind relaxed enough to share. “Sorry, before I turned into, uh _this_ , I was never really into the sharing and caring. Now look at me. Ten seconds from weeping into shoulders at any given moment.”

'Shut your face, and gimme what you got.'

Dean busted out laughing. “Ok, tone it back, Godzilla.”

'I know you are but what am I?' Dane chuckled. 

“Ok, that doesn't even make sense, but, whatever. Here's some better catch phrases and stuff.”

For the rest of the trip back, they traded insults and quotes, Dean teaching him the art of pun's because Cas likes them, and Dane teaching Dean how to take down his meals. They reached the vehicles and saw the others stop what they were doing to gawk at them. Dane waved. Dean asked what was up so Dane opened up the imaginary doors to help him look out again. 

“Holy crap they're tiny! What the fuck... why didn't you tell me we grew so much?!”

'I didn't realize it was... this much. I just thought I took a different way back with smaller trees.'

“You're a fuckin' bad liar, Jackass.” Dean cussed but there wasn't anything anyone could do. There they stood, at a whopping 40 feet tall, or damn near. They could always use Sammy as a ruler to check but he's pretty sure his even smaller little brother would mind.

Dane dipped his head down and trilled, 'At least I'm full now, I'll have to eat in a couple of days though.' He scented the mild panic in the air and assumed rightly that he probably still had dried blood on his mouth and was just reminding the others in graphic detail that he can eat them with ease. 'I'm jus... gonna go wash up.' he stood back up tall and inched away from them, trying to walk carefully but still shook the ground anyway. 

“They're fine. It's just shock, it'll wear off.” he heard Dane sigh and mentally nudged him to cut it out. “They were with us when we were thirty feet, why wouldn't they be with us at forty? It's just ten measly feet taller. No big deal.”

'You think so?'

“Know so.” Dean chuckled. Dane sometimes acted all big and tough but he needed reassurances just like every one else on this planet. “It was probably just your bad breath, wash your mouth out while you're at the water hole.” 

Dane nodded, feeling a little better. 'Kinda glad I forgot to bring the boar with us back, they might be too intimidated by them.'

“Jealous more like.” Dean was glad Dane was feeling better every minute. Dean was able to regrow the mindscapes forest and land, the air cleared to a nice partly cloudy day. Whenever he wanted to look out at what Dane was seeing, a kind of opening would just appear that would take up nearly his whole line of sight and then disappear if he wasn’t focusing on keeping it open. Still worn out, but getting better. 

They found a decent sized body of water and flossed with a thick vine hanging from a nearby tree, stripped clean of its leaves and bark first to get rid of any insects or dirt. Dean closing his eyes the whole time he felt chunks coming out of his teeth. “Dude, you need to chew more thoroughly. Feels like dried macaroni.” Dean picked at his own teeth for the phantom sensations.

Dane kept himself from saying that he did chew even if he didn't have to, he could have swallowed the boar's whole but the tusks would have tore up his throat too much so he chose to crunch the bones up a little before swallowing. Next time he'll turn them into a paste.

He washed his mouth and face off thoroughly and then dipped in the rest of his body in a cleaner part, trying not to disrupt the silt at the bottom as he wiggled his wings under the water. 

“Whoa. You feel that?” Dean lifted up his arms as an approximation to what the wings were doing, flapping slowly under the surface. “You know, I bet my whole tape collection that we would be fast as shit swimming.”

'I never tried.'

“Oh we'll have to.” Dean's fingers flexed in the air, the feel of how thick the water is between them. The human shape he's most comfortable with using in the mindscape didn't have wings so his hands were the next best approximation of them. Spreading out his fingers ahead of himself and then wading in the air of the forest in their head. “This feels so, I dunno, strong, right?”

'I guess.' Dane went a little further into the water, unable to go too deep, it was just over his shoulders and his head still soared over the surface. He crouched down in the water and aimed for the farthest edge. Ducking his head low to streamline his body better and kicking off of the bottom, flapping his wings at first up and down but found a new method of forcing it from ahead of him to behind. Cupping the water in each wing and pushing it back hard. He skid onto the shoreline and huffed a joyful laugh. Turning around, sloshing water dozens of feet into the air before launching himself into the pond towards the other side, reaching it in no time. 

Dean laughed like crazy, doubled over and nearly crying with joy, “I know how we're getting into the military base!”


	34. Scenic Route to War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swimming lessons with Cas, and a trip to the worlds largest rocking chair leaves Dean as the new main attraction!

Chapter 34

Scenic Route to War

 

 

 

Dane listened to Dean's plan as they swam short laps in the lake, dubious on if the idea will work, they both decided they'd need to discuss it with the others before plowing into it horns first. This isn't something they can handle on their own. Nor would want to. Their family is in this together and that was a very nice feeling. Dean still feels the need to take care of them and suspects that that mirrored emotion coming from Dane might stem from his first encounter with the humans. Thinking of them as needing protection in this big hostile world. To the point where Dane basically adopted them as his kids without too many reservations about it. Not really caring that they weren't even a species that he ever saw before. Hell, he thought they were poisonous but still felt responsible for their safety since they didn't have fangs or claws to defend or fend for themselves. He saw how small they were, helpless and abandoned and stood up to the task. Dean also felt that for his little brother Sammy since he carried him out of their childhood home when it went up in flames. Dean was just 4 years old at the time, Sam was 6 months old, and even at that young age, he stood up and saved his little brother. He'd always save him, even if it was from himself and all the stuff that follows him around like the plague. He would have left, maw blazing with Dane riding shotgun to the military base, but knew that the others also proved themselves in a fight. Together as a team, they had a shot. 

The small humans were going out of their way to save another innocent, the Drauglin mother who was once human herself. There's not a doubt in their mind that when Cricket was human, she would have never wanted to be Drauglin. They needed to know if she wants to return to her old self or not. They'd find that out after they free her. First things first.

Dean could feel goosebumps on his skin and wondered if Dane was getting the equivalent Adrenalin rush. This crazy idea could work. They finally got out of the water and shook off like a dog. Dane had been at a loss about the suggested move until Dean supplied him with the memories of big hairy dogs shaking water from their coats. Dean had to stifle a laugh at the sight of those simply massive wings buffeting the trees all around them as they flailed about. The weight of the body jiggling all over the place as their claws were firmly planted in the ground to keep them from twisting too far and toppling over. Dane stilled his movements, mildly dizzy, and shivered a little in the air. He sulked for a bit, purely because he didn't think about the air cooling off his skin because of the water droplets. He ignored Dean's impatience to get back ASAP and simply sunbathed himself dry. The region they had been traveling in was very rocky and uneven so to find this wide open beach was just too inviting. He let the idea roll around in his head, thinking of every aspect as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft sunlight. Very leisurely flapping his wings to get the air moving on the undersides before giving up his dignity and sprawling out like a cat on his side. His tail knocked into an already old and weakened tree and it crashed messily to the ground, dirt and leaves kicked up and landing on his damp scales. He irritably brushed it off of his just washed skin and shook once more to get rid of as many loose leaves as possible before heading back to the others. Twitching his scales to loosen up the remaining flecks every once in awhile. Felt good to get nice and clean. 

He could feel another scale shed coming on, but that was just from his growth spurt. He didn't want to leave the shed skin where just anyone could find it. And maybe it will actually come in handy later on. The more layers he has the better armor for battle. He did wish he could do his hands at least, make them softer for handling humans. However, once started, he can't really pick and choose what to loose, it will all come off when he rubs against something. Even laying down and sleeping would loosen up that whole side if the shed starts. So, he resisted the urge to get rid of it and tried to think of something else.

Bobby had just set up the temporary campsite when they heard a near deafening crash deep in the woods. Everyone paused what they were doing and had a tingle of fear at the unexpected ruckus where Dane disappeared to. Rufus carefully walked to his truck and pulled out his shotgun and looked to the rest to see if they'd like some kind of weapon as well. Sam shook his head, he was already set, pulling out his trusted handgun and giving a signal to Bobby to hold down the fort while the other two more able bodied hunters inspected the source of the crash. They couldn't let their guard down, even if they were in the middle of the quiet woods. The path they had to take was churned up due to the flatbed trailer Dean used, and was kind of a dead giveaway that something big was dragged through there already. They'll deal with that later, maybe have the dragon pat the dirt down again. If they had to do it, they'd need shovels and half a day's labor. They already unhitched it from the truck since their Drauglin friend was just too gigantic for it now. 

Sam and Rufus disappeared around the bend, guns up and ready for anything. Balthazar and Cas went to the truck and rooted around for their borrowed guns and without waiting for a sign from Bobby, took up a defensive position at the other two corners of camp. Bobby hid an impressed grin and nodded at them to keep an eye out. 

Dane spotted Sam and Rufus with their guns raised and trained on his head a few seconds before he pushed aside several trees, gentler this time, making sure they didn't fall over. 'Hey guys,' he chirped, one wing unfolded a little as a shrug. 'That big noise was me, I accidentally knocked over a tree.' Dane looked a little sheepish and turned his head to scan the forest area they were in. Noticing that the two hunters were still armed and alert. 'I don't sense anyone else here, we should be good tonight. It's quiet.' 

Sam took his word for it and put his gun back behind his belt. Rufus lowered his from Dean, but kept it aimed outward in case of smaller predators then dragons came calling. “Looking good, Dane.” Sam praised, and indeed, the dragon looked brand new now that he's washed and clean. The huge being also had this air of confidence and eagerness about him. It made him seem less intimidating and scary. That first look at his new height and all of that blood that was caked onto his face, hands, and neck... it was almost _terrifying_. Too much of a reminder that the dragon was basically Death with wings to anything made of meat. They were glad humans weren't on the menu, hopefully never would be. Sam hid a shudder at the memory of once being _inside_ that grinning toothy maw, even though he was only kept in it for a short bit and it was solely to save his life from Michael's inferno hanger. Thankfully, Dane hadn't been able to tell what he was thinking for that brief meeting before he left to bathe. Sam would never confront his brother that he knew for a fact that hybrid Dean had tasted him on purpose and seemed to _enjoy_ the flavor. That pleased moan couldn't be mistaken for a groaning support beam from the burning hanger. As much as Sam willed it to be all in his mind. The tongue that wrapped around him clearly tried to pull him in deeper before Dean forced himself to still the movements. All of these thoughts were now coming back to him as he looked up at the now well over 40 foot tall dragon. About as tall as the mother now, going by his hazy memories. Which means, if Dane wanted to, he could easily make a meal out of everyone there. Hell, he could fit three of them in his closed mouth at the same time! Sam walked faster ahead of the following dragon, Rufus picking up the pace too and side eyeing Sam's haste.

Dane ducked down to sniff at the spike of worry coming from Sam who felt the gust of air and spun around sharply. Dane frowned when he saw the gun in Sam's hands again, pulled and aimed faster then a blink of an eye. A moment stretched out between the three of them. Dane hesitated before slowly inhaling the air around the two men again and frowned deeper, sighing and lowering his eyes off to the side.

'I'll see you there.' he sighed a little despondently. He carefully passed them on the path and kept on walking but with less enthusiasm. 

Sam lowered his gun in jerky increments, finally cursing under his breath and watching the slowly retreating figure of the dragon. All that talk yesterday and he couldn't stop his knee jerk reactions. He noted that Rufus had his rifle up too, but didn't know if it was just there, or if Rufus was purposefully aiming it up at Dane's head. After all, the proper way for all hunters to carry rifles is to aim them at the ground, resting on their shoulder, or aimed high, so they wouldn't accidentally shoot their fellow companions as they walk side by side. 

“It's fine.” Rufus stated and moved his shotgun to his other shoulder, patting Sam on the back. “Gives me the willies too. Doesn't mean we don't trust him, it just from the Hunter life.” he started walking towards camp, following the quickly disappearing form of the dragon. Dane just took longer strides then them, and would reach it sooner. “Can't spend your whole life knowing about things that go bump in the night and _not_ have that kind of reaction to something big and toothy breathing down your neck. Not possible. So give yourself a break.”

Sam grimaced but nodded, not saying a word, shuffling his feet.

Dean watched the event and tried not to take it to heart. Dane was somber. “You jus shouldn't have sniffed him like that. He's a hunter jus like me and we'd been trained our whole lives to be ready to fight.” Dean leaned against a tree and watched out of Dane's eyes, the path being made by the huge body. Dane sighed and laid down for a moment once he was far ahead of the humans.

Dean could tell Dane was very _seriously_ taking it to heart, even if he knew logically that anything that small would react to a giant face directly behind them. “Want me to...?” He let the question hang. Not insisting Dane couldn't handle it, or that his turn in control was taking too long, just offering a chance to hide out in the head while Dean handles the awkward side effects of this newfound size. 

Dane shook his head and heard Sam and Rufus slowly catching up. He decided to wait for them, he was supposed to be accompanying the humans out here. Making up a bogus excuse for his absence. 'Thought I heard something, turns out it was just a big bird getting food.' he motioned to the side with his nose, and stood up only when Sam and Rufus looked to be OK with him so near. He moved slower then usual, surreptitiously scenting the air again, trying not to make it obvious like last time. Sam seemed to be ashamed of something. Rufus was just tired. At least that terror is gone... for now. 'Lead the way.' He calmly motioned with his nose towards the camp. Repeating in his head to move slowly and predictably around the small humans. They need to know he's still safe to be around, that he'll be careful with their much smaller bodies being so near to his big stupid feet. Able to crush them flat if he wasn't watching closely enough. That thought made him stop altogether for a few seconds. Shivering and mortified at the notion that he might not even _feel it_. Small, helpless, no wonder they're scared of him, but trying their damnedest to hide it.

Sam looked like he wanted to say something but stopped himself and pat the dragons wrist as he passed it. Not even needing to bend over to do so. The new size was just so... unprecedented. No one expected him to be nearly twenty whole feet bigger then his usual size. All of them were just getting used to having his brother be small enough to fit in a coat pocket. And now, he wouldn't fit in the airplane hanger he burned down. The humans must look like mice to him now. Scared and scurrying around. Reacting as if he's gonna just eat them. And really, he needs to stop thinking about it. It's only making Dane feel worse. Sam and Rufus walked ahead of him and felt the ground shake every single time Dane's foot contacted the ground. They suspected he was trying to be light on his feet, but still, the tremors shook the foliage, the water in puddles, and they felt it in their bones and especially nerves. 

Sam looked over his shoulder at Dane who was watching where he was placing each footstep, looking over to the shaggy haired man he once thought of as an infant. Sam forced those memory's to the forefront. Dane would protect them, just like he always did. Still, “I'm sorry, Dane.” 

Dane quirked an eyebrow and his attention went back to his feet as he watched his raised hand ease down into the dirt to steady himself. A little muscle movement showing that he was trying carefully to hold his balance while walking down the narrow path for him. Avoiding the trees and anything else he might knock around. The equivalent of tight rope walking for the massive beast. 

Sam could tell Dane was about to shrug the apology off again but he made a point to look the huge face in the eyes. “I'm sorry, ok?”

Dean nudged Dane from the inside and said, “Tell him to stop mother hening us.” Dean smirked, “That aughta bring the bitchface out and we can get back to our regularly scheduled shit.”

Dane opened up his mouth to say just that but he stilled, that's what Dean would say. 'It's alright. You know, I was scared of you when I was little, I get that this can be, uh, a bit much. No worries.' and gave an honest grin that was mirrored back. 

Dean slouched against the tree more, a mix of feelings for that answer. Overall, it was alright, but that's just not how he and Sammy talk. They say they're fine, even if they're not so they can get on with their lives guilt free. Which is the opposite of what he does. Dane though, has his own wavelength with the others. Feels things differently. Is more up front and sometimes blunt.

Back at the clearing, Bobby was first to feel the ground shaking rumble that was eerily familiar, waved a hand, they all holstered their weapons. The Drauglin member of their group was finally returning. Still, they didn't relax fully until they saw Sam and Rufus walking casually into the clearing again, followed by the now supersized dragon. They had briefly talked about how and why Dane was so big and what to do about it now. The trailer would be useless. The dragon would have to make his own way to the military base, and they'd have to decide if he should even go.

The three of them made it to the clearing without further chick flick moments. Dane hunkering down shortly after clearing the trees. He waited calmly for the other three to approach him at their own leisure. Curiosity heavy in the air. He didn't have any better answers then the ones being thrown around behind his new mass and height. It was probably the good food, full nights rest, lack of physical strain for the most part. His hand and leg fully healed now thanks to the healing salve and time. Hardly a mark on him to show where the break was. 

Cas and Balth came over and looked up at Dane, impressed with the sight now that Dane wasn't looming quite so much anymore. “So you got enough to eat?” Balth started up the conversation and walked over to the side to open handed slap the belly that barely moved. The easy going nature of the two helped Dane relax just a bit more. 

'Yeah, was gonna bring one back for you... but I forgot. Sorry.'

“It is not of import, Dane.” Castiel grinned and sat down on one of the forelegs that stretched out. Balthazar naturally taking up a seat on the other. Both of them having to hop up just to get up there. Cas knew that just like Dean, the fastest way to show Dane their acceptance was to treat him like one of the guys. “Bobby was gonna take us hunting tomorrow morning, show us the ropes so we can join you one of these times.”

Dane nodded thoughtfully. It would be nice to have some friendly company, or even light competition. He'll have to limit his quarry to something they could easily take down. Rabbits. That aught to even the playing field. Rabbits are too small for him to pick out among the low brush, that's why he usually goes after big game. Or squirrels for the same reason. Dane could just rip up the tree the squirrel ran up, but that would ruin the meat. Having to pinch the little mammal between claws like an insect. Or, he could just wait and see what they bring home. He's done his hunting for a few days. So full that if Balth slaps his belly one more time he might burst. At the mere thought of it, he belched loud and long, igniting the small campfire into a fireball that rose mere feet over Rufus's head as he was leaning down next to the fire pit. 

'Whoops! Sorry!' he chirped over, truly regretful for the unexpected flames. At least they dissipated soon enough while still airborne instead of settling on the ground and catching their campsite on fire. He shifted in his seat and both Castiel and Balth had to hold on or else get thrown off. Dane laid his head along the ground and pursed his lips shut, embarrassment in his eyes as he faced the woods. He wanted to suggest he goes and sleeps elsewhere, in case he does that again in his sleep and sets fire to something, but Cas and Balth settled on his arms again, chuckling about the situation. Dane grinned himself, glad that he wasn't back to square one with scaring his friends and family. 

“Save the flames for the bad guys.” Rufus said firmly, adjusting his shirt and going back to preparing dinner for the fire. “I got this one going, so don't go stealing my thunder.” he threw another log on the fire since the previous ones were nearly burned out from the added accelerant. Damn but that boy can belch. 

Dane got a mental shove and just remembered what he and Dean had talked about earlier. 'Dean says he knows how to get into the place that has my mother, Cricket.' Dane announced, everyone looking up at the loud rumbles for attention. Dane paused and debated for just a second before closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. The wings relaxed to the sides and Dean opened up his eyes. 

'Hey guys.' Dean greeted, 'I'm just out long enough to tell y'all the plan I – uh, we, came up with.' Dean looked down when he felt something on each of his arms. 'Oh, hey.' He said with a smile, looking down to Cas and Balth, he just thought they were sitting next to him, not like, _on him_. 'So uh, Sam, you said that when you were looking for me, that you found the military base had blocked out the satellite images of the area? I think you said that... right?'

Sam translated for the others and then answered his brother, “Yeah. The area was pixelated to all hell in all of the aerial maps and even the road maps. Roads that lead to the block of space and disappear, a river that stopped suddenly and started up again after the mystery block.” He went to the Impala and pulled out his laptop, booting it up while he talked, “I knew that there was something fishy going on there. All air traffic was diverted from the area with nothing shown to the public why the planes would need to go around. This town close to it, the one Meg lives in while she's working there, had reports of huge convoys with pigs and cows being sent down the road. No one knew why or where they were heading.” He opened up the maps and turned the laptop around so everyone could see. Dean squinted at it and frowned a little. It was just too small to make out. The screen less then a couple centimeters to his size.

Rufus went back to tending dinner, keeping an eye and ear to the conversation, multitasking, and Bobby took up a seat next to Balthazar. Sam propped up the laptop and used a stick with one end turned to charcoal, to draw out a rough copy of the map for Dean in the wood floor of the flatbed trailer. Pointing out the nearby forests, flat lands, and the river. Then with Bobby's help, they filed in the huge blank spot where the base was. What buildings were there and where the dragon mother was being held. It was scuffed with shoes and erased and drawn several times, Bobby joining in to get the best approximation to what's actually there. 

“The parking lot isn't that big, its more like, yeah. Like that.” Sam turned his head this way and that, closing his eyes to remember the layout better. “And right here's that big building she's in. Meg said in the call last night that she's gotten closer to Eve, uh, I guess her name's actually Cricket?” he looked up to Dean nodding. “Huh, ok, I'll tell her the next time we schedule a transmission.” Sam made some more detailed sketches as he explained all he saw when he infiltrated the base. 

Once Bobby and Sam were done, they looked to Dean to fill them all in on his plan. 

Dean grinned widely, ignoring the few seconds of shock scent at seeing his fangs all showing. He was a little smug at how awesome he was now. A force to be reckoned with. They'll need that. 'So Dane and I discovered something today, we are fast as a bullet in water.' He sat up a little straighter. 'We can hold our breath for a lot longer then any regular human can, and our camouflage works at looking like rocks under the waters' surface. And, since our nose is long with the nostrils at the end, even if we can't hold our breath indefinitely, we can always do what gators do and just have the nose above the surface. Looking like two bumps amid ripples.' His wings splayed out a little, proudly showing off their Titan like size. 'These things are like the greatest fins or flippers or whatever you want to call them. We just scoop up water and shove it back, over and over without too much waves if we go deep enough, which, with our long neck and nose, isn't a problem at all!' 

The others were very impressed with his skills, and the Hunters checked over the map, tracing the river right next to the base, practically inside its property. A way past the guards on land. 

Cas spoke up, “Do we know if they scan the waters that run by?” They discussed the implications of Dean's plan, all the while he shifted from one hand to the other, wings fidgeting a little. Dane tried to calm his nerves. 'They'll figure out the details, you were pretty ass kick, Dean.'

Dean chuckled, 'It's, kick ass, or maybe, we are ass kickers.' he knew Dane was cataloging it away. 'It's alright, like I said, slang is weird.' 

Balth looked over to Dean who was mumbling things to himself and laughing. “Dean?”

He looked down and nodded. 'What's up, Squirt?'

“Just checking.” Balth was getting a little used to the meanings behind the vocalizations after hanging out with the dragon for so long. “So do you guys, you and Dane, chat often?” a nod and grin. “What's that like?”

Dean gave him a complicated look, then searched the area for Sam or Cas, but they were deep in discussion and he didn't want to bother them, opting to try and remember how to do sign language. His hand came up and he felt Dane cock his metaphorical head to the side. His hand came up to sign the letters, 'Its weird but he is cool', he then wondered if Balthazar knew larger words or if he had to keep spelling it all out. He used a few words that he could do one handed mixed in with spelling. 'When we are in the head we can make a world with thoughts.' He paused and saw the confused look on Balthazar's face. Ok, spelling it is. He re-signed the sentence before adding, 'It's a forest for us, ruled by feels sometimes.'

“What do you mean? Like, your feelings for each other?”

Dean flopped his hand side to side, a statement in itself. 'Or our own.' Dean debated telling Balth about their many internal spats, what that's like for the one on the inside. He got the go ahead from Dane, interested more in watching their hand move around in a new way of talking. Dean was translating the letters and meanings of the words as he completed each one, then said the sentence so there was no confusion for the Drauglin. Reading and writing and sign language aren't native to them. It would be like humans trying to speak using colors. 

Dean could feel how eager Dane was to say something using sign language, so after he was done explaining the whole inner dialog, he let Dane have control again. Balth startled at the sudden change in demeanor. Using unsure fingers, he saw the huge hand lift high enough to topple a building before it signed 'I am Dane.' before it came down with a heavy thump and a proud grin. Balth stumbled a little at the weight that was just slammed onto the ground just a few feet away but he quickly clapped his hands at Dane's successful signing.

“Very good! Splendid!” Balthazar claps and jovially punches Dane's arm as the dragon damn near blushes at the praise. “Did Dean teach you any other ways of using your hands? Symbols that humans use at each other?”

Dane's brow furrowed and he ducked his head down towards the tiny human and sniffed at his hands. Too small to see from way up high. Balth steadied himself before chuckling and showing Dane a peace sign, thumbs up, the 'call me' phone fingers, the classic rocker, and then once Dane mastered them, he showed him some more lewd gestures which Dane enthusiastically learned before Balth explained what they were. They could hear snickers and laughter coming from behind Balthazar and looked up at the audience they had. Dane smiled innocently and flipped them off.

That sent them into hysterics along with Dean rolling around on the grass, trying to catch his breath. Poor Dane lowered his finger. Confused but a little happy that he made everyone laugh. He could tell it wasn't to make fun of him, but, enjoying the funny little hand gesture. He'll have to remember to use that when the group gets upset. 

Dean finally got some air and corrected Dane, “It's a bad gesture, it's generally rude, Dude, it means 'fuck you'. It's basically telling someone to fuck off.” Dean chuckled some more. “Use it when Sammy's being a little Bitch.”

'What about when someone else is bitching?' Dane asked aloud, Sam and Cas looking at each other, wondering who the big guy is addressing. 

“Nah, it's... hard to explain. Usually people finger someone that they know isn't gonna take it seriously, or, for someone they hate intensely.”

'Oh. So you finger Cas since you love him?'

Dean busted out laughing again, reluctantly explaining the many uses of the word 'fuck' and 'fingering' and how each could be r-rated, and then having to explain what r-rated means. It would be so much easier to explain sex, if Dean wasn't thoroughly guarding his memories of screwing Cas so completely. Dane was still kinda a virgin. At least, Dean's pretty sure if there was another Drauglin lady he'd know what to do on instinct. Or maybe not. The good mood was killed a little at the thought of Dane never finding a mate of his own. Dean shoved those thoughts aside and told Dane to forget about it for now. 

Dane huffed a little, at himself and Dean. He wanted to learn but it seems as though it was a difficult subject so he dropped it. He looked down at Balthazar using his arm as a chair again and wiggled it a little, making the small guy clutch the side scales under his legs to stay on, he looked up and Dane just chirped at him, like he didn't know what happened. Lightly teasing the humans seemed to get them more at ease around him. Knowing that it will never get out of hand. Dean sent an image of a hand gesture and Dane used his other hand to mimic it. It was tricky to get his fingers all together then split down the center. 'Dean says, live long and prosper.' he chirped and was happy that the others got a kick out of that gesture as well. Dean wanted control again and he let him, easily switching back and forth.

Dean made his hand into a facsimile of a person that uses the index and middle fingers as legs and walked his hand up to Cas. His dexterity wasn't the greatest with the Drauglin fingers but Cas still bowed to the hand 'person' in front of him that was as tall as he was. Sharp thick claws doing their best to look like pointed black fancy dress shoes. Dean couldn't do much with Balth and now Bobby sitting next to each other on his other forearm so he moved his fingers in a kind of moon walk away from Cas who followed after, only to be playfully snatched up by those fingers and held over the ground. Everyone nearly jumped out of their skin at the sudden movement. Dean got five sets of alarm scent shot at him and he nearly dropped Cas on his face.

After righting his stomach again from that sudden lurch and grip, Cas quickly laughed loudly and squirmed in the fingers. Diffusing the tension before it manifests. Dean could kiss him. So he did. Dane covered his eyes as the long forked tongue booped Castiel's lips and wiggled around very very gently before Cas opened up his mouth quickly and snapped his teeth down before the tongue could gain entrance. Teasingly and defiant at the same time. Dean retreated and split the tips out wide to lick both sides of Castiel's cheeks to jawline. Concentrating hard, he made each end wiggle inside Cas's ears before retreating quickly and sucking back up all the way from Cas's reach and behind his fangs again. Flicking it out like a snake would just to see how it feels. Usually the ends of his tongue just moved in the same directions as if it wasn't split but he tried experimenting more and more. Maybe he and Cas could have some private time yet... he felt a groan from Dane's side, exasperation, and quickly promised again that it wont happen without his permission. 

His clawed index finger opened up wide enough for Cas to get his arms and hands free to wipe off his face of the saliva. Cas flung it off of his face and glared at Dean. No real heat behind it. Pushing at the fingers that readily let go once the humans feet were under him.

“Why?” Cas asked, wiping off his face on his shirt, showing some abs for a brief second. “You know I gotta wash this off before it ignites, remember? Flammable?” 

'Oh, _shit,_ right.' Dean pursed his lips shut. Its easy to forget details like that when he's still getting used to this body and hes already immune to flames. 'Sorry.' he hung his head a little and curled it away from Cas and the others. Sighing. One careless move and Cas could have been scarred for life if he leaned over the fire pit. If not _dead_. 'The uh, there's a lake that way if you want to take a bath, get my... get clean of all uh, traces of me off.' Dean mumbled looking everywhere but Cas. He didn't want to test out the theory if other fluids from his body were also flammable. Where hadn't Dean licked earlier? Cleaning up after their love making. Now he bets he could coat Cas head to toe in saliva with one flat lick. 

Cas frowned a little, feeling the shame coming from Dean. He walked over and patted the bridge of Dean's nose that was about level with his waist now even with Dean's head resting fully on the ground. His horns arching over about 6 feet from the ground to the tip. “Show me? I bet these guys don't want to miss dinner taking me out there. And you already ate...”

Dean perked up a little. So Cas doesn't hold it against him. 'Sure.' he chirped and looked pointedly at Balth and Bobby who grumbled just a little at having to find somewhere else to sit. It was just comfortable sitting on Dean's arm, the novelty will never get old. Now standing again, Dean waited for Cas to start walking to follow behind. For every ten steps the human took, Dean took half of one. 'Want a lift?' Dean asked and Cas stopped to look up. 'Shoulders, I'm not gonna grab you again, don't worry.'

“I didn't mind being in your hands, Dean. I trust you. I just... the flames...” Cas cocked his head to the side, willing Dean to understand that they can be close, just careful. He could tell Dean wasn't reassured but the offer for riding his back still stood. “Shoulders should be fine.” he turned fully and looked up at the very tall Drauglin. Dean's shoulders were about 25 or 30 feet off the ground. “Ok... uhh, how tall are you exactly?”

'I dunno, 40?' Dean straightened up and looked down at Cas, knowing that he's 6 ft 1 inch tall and going by the fact that he was barely taller then the bend in his wrist had to reassess. 'More?'

“Yeah... more.” Cas said and found a branch about his height, broke it down to be as tall as himself and handed it to Dean. Dean used his horns and marked on the tallest tree they could find before using the branch as a ruler to see how many it took to reach the mark going up the trunk. “Dean, you're just over 50 feet tall.”

Dean frowned at that. 'I thought I wasn't that big of a...' he stopped himself. Dane was listening. 'No matter,' and lifted his head up and away again, looking towards the lake he could see shimmering in the distance. 'Better get there and back before the others start to wonder.' trying to change the subject.

“Dean.” Cas implored, “This is a _good thing_. We will need someone big and strong to take out as many bad guys as possible. I'm _glad_ you're extra big! Grateful!”

'Dude, my dick is probably bigger then you.' Dean looked way down to his mate. 

“Oh yeah? And mine was bigger then you back in the cabin! _So what_?” Castiel folded his arms. Touche. “I love every inch of you no matter what. Now gimme a lift.” his hand waved for Dean to get his hand turned palm side up to boost Cas up to his shoulder. 

Dean smirked and did as instructed, crouching down at the same time to help Cas get used to the new elevation first before standing upright. 'Wanna ride up top?' he nosed at Cas's stomach and looked up towards his own forehead. 

“This is fine, for now.” Cas made himself comfortable sitting on the flat surface of the one specific shaved off spike on his spine. Remembering about the chip buried in Dean's back. Dean lifted his wings to make sure Cas wouldn't fall off the huge drop, and Cas grazed his fingers on the scales, checking out how big even his wing thumb had gotten. As thick as his leg but still gentle when it stroked his hand back. Dean glanced behind himself, double and triple checking Cas's safety and started walking. Wing thumbs at the ready to hold down his legs like a seat belt. They made it to the lake in no time once Cas urged him to go faster. Cas was already stripping off his coat and shirt and tossing them to the ground far below. Dean lifted his hand again and the human got on without hesitation, admiring the idyllic lake and beach with near giddy anticipation. Everything was beautiful. He practically tore off his shoes and his borrowed pants but left on his boxers much to Dean's disappointment, and he joined him in the lake waters. Dean, showing off his new swimming techniques and even playing around with Cas. 

Cas was a pretty good swimmer but still flailed around when Dean rose up from underneath him, making his body splay out on the smugly grinning face. Dean ducked down just as quick and left Cas floundering for just a second before he felt the end of Dean's mouth come up slowly, waiting for Cas to get his balance with one foot on each lip before breaking the water and holding Cas up there. His tongue snaked out through his closed mouth and held on tightly to Cas's ankles and flipped him around so Cas was hanging upside down. All the water from Dean's head rushing over him dangling there. Dean let go, and 'rescued' him by doing the same exact standing lift as before but this time holding onto his ankles from the start so he could raise the both from the water much faster. Cas felt like a dolphin launching itself into the sky. Dean let go at the top of the thrust upward and watched Cas dive back into the water in a perfect arch. Once he resurfaced on his own, Cas panted hard and grinned ear to ear, all gummy and squinting. 

Dean could practically hear him say, “Again! Again!” and didn't disappoint. They played around for nearly an hour, till Cas couldn't swim anymore, exhausted with how much fun they were having so Dean back floated for a bit, using his wings like lily pads to help keep them afloat. Cas was laying out on Dean's chest, looking up at the sky and sighing happily. It must have been years since he's had a chance to just goof around while swimming. At all of the public pools there were always eyes on him and his phobias would keep him from interacting for too long. Balthazar was used to this, and in their youth, they'd sometimes steal some pool time after hours. But _this_ , he'd never had a chance to do any of this before. Dean helped him do some incredible nautical displays, while feeling like he's playing with his very own living toy. Of course he doesn't see his Cas as anything but his highly respectable mate, it was still pretty cute to see the little guy swim around like a kid hopped up on sugar. Dean tilted his chin down to see Cas laying out on his chest and smirked at his dozing mate, 'We are gonna sleep good tonight, hmmm?' he felt a peaceful sigh in return.

They'll have to get the others to take a break in the lake tomorrow morning. This opportunity was too good to pass up. All the doom and gloom was wearing them all out, it was ok to take a breather, and the Drauglin needed to practice his swimming skills if he's going to be going into nautical battle at the military base. The two of them saw the first star of the night start to twinkle and Cas reluctantly rolled over and looked up to Dean's stretched out neck, his chin pointed up to the sky. His hands reached down and grazed Cas's body, checking to make sure the human was still there. Cas patted the finger back and then for attention. Dean lifted his head which put weight on his upper chest, making Cas slip towards the water a little. The wings flapped to regain his balance and got Cas all wet again after drying out in the setting sun. Dean aimed for the shoreline, using his tail as a makeshift corkscrew propeller, and waited for Cas to climb off of his body by himself and wade into the shallows. 

Dean flipped over and shook himself off as he got out as well. Shaking again once he's away from Cas, wings flapping mightily and getting his body a few feet of air before he dropped back down suddenly. No flying today. Cas was positively soaked and water beaded all over his sharp hips and muscled abs. He looked so handsome standing there, even if he was using his hands like squeegees to get as much water off of his skin as possible. Not a towel for a hundred miles. Dean's instinct almost took over when he wanted to lick Cas clean of the water. That was the whole reason they went to the lake in the first place. He found a patch of grass and sat down, admiring Castiel's body as he used his trench coat to soak up some of the excess droplets and put Dean's pants back on, foregoing the shirt and draping the coat over his shoulder as well. When he reached Dean he didn't have to say a word for Dean to offer his hand and lift him back up to the shoulders, resuming his spot and using the clothes as cushions. 

Dean started the walk back to the camp and heard Cas smack his bare arms and legs. Oh right, bugs are out. Smoke usually gets rid of them. Dean picked up a dried bush and a relatively smallish stick and wrapped it around it with some vines. It was smallish to him but for Cas it would be huge. He spat on it, and before he even thought about it, created a spark in his mouth and let his flaming tongue ignite it, then closed his mouth to smother the flames. His mouth felt nice and warm. He stared at the flickering firelight in the dark for half a minute before realizing what he did. Cas too was all wide eyed looking at the flaming torch. Dean turned his head to look at Cas and grin, waving the torch in his hand a little. 

His sparker teeth had grown back. 

Cas accepted the torch so Dean could use his hand to strut proudly back to the camp. Cas waved it in the air once they reached the clearing and the others took a minute to realize why Dean looked so smug. Cas doesn't have a lighter.

They congratulated Dean and Dane. Formerly troublesome parts of their plan to overtake the military base were now dropped. Dean doesn't need them to Jerry rig up something to ignite his spray. They had to talk the Drauglin out of setting more things on fire just to see if he can. They'll have to do it safely or else set the forest on fire. Neither Dean nor Dane were used to fine tuning the flames, that was mostly the hybrid, and no one had heard from that personality for days. 

The rest of the night went peacefully, Dean upturned the flatbed trailer to form a kind of wall on one side of the camp to help with defenses while his enormous body would take up the other sides. The Impala and truck were mostly behind the trailer wall, protecting the sleeping occupants from a ground attack from that direction which was from the way they came to the small clearing. Dean's hide was probably impenetrable now that he's so huge, best at deflecting any kind of bullet made to date. Dean suggested that they test out if his wing membranes could deflect as well, now that they're practically a foot thick in some places, but Dane was too wary. Dean settled on curling around the entire camp, starting at his head next to the trucks tailgate, and ending with his tail at the Impala's hood, snuggling around the car protectively. His inner wing folded down over the fire, soaking up the heat while the others got ready for bed. 

Sam and Bobby in the Impala, Rufus in the truck's cab and Balthazar in the back of the truck on the thick blankets. Dean talked Cas out of sleeping next to him, and he reluctantly saw reason. If Cas could break Dean's bones with his arm back in the cabin, what damage could the massive Drauglin do at nearly twice that comparative size? Dean gently shoved Cas towards the truck bed and he settled down next to Balthazar. Dean could see them both as his head rest on the ground just beyond the opened tailgate. Watching them adjust for a few minutes before falling asleep. Dean lifted his head and double checked the others, making sure they were sleeping as well before smothering the fire under his wing. Loving the hot coals that warmed up his wing as he moved it around to absorb every smidgen of heat from it. He then folded it back around his body to warm it up. Usually he would sleep in his own little cocoon, but he wanted to keep an eye out tonight. 

He only woke once when a couple of female deer wandered nearby, watching them take a few hesitant steps closer, drawn in by the unusual sight of humans, cars, and the strange large animal. He scented the air and could smell no fear coming from the animals, just curiosity. It wasn't as strong as what he could tell from humans, but still, it was kinda peaceful and nice to have them be unafraid of him. Dane might see them purely as food, but in this quiet night, he just watched them, watching him. They were juveniles, just out of their spots and on their own. Maybe even siblings. They stood there, scenting the air themselves and slowly wandered off back down their trail. Hardly making a sound. He decided not to mention it to Dane or the others. For reasons he wasn't even clear on. It was just a nice moment out here in nature.

Morning came and Dean slept in, _no one_ could wake him up. They all had to work together to fold his wing back up from it's relaxed stretch. Uncovering the fire pit again and starting it up with some stolen drool from his mouth. The Drauglin just licked his lips and settled again, slack jawed and rumbling a snore that shook the ground. He mumbled in his sleep but was still pretty out of it. Everyone tensing when a gigantic limb would twitch, ready to run for it if he kicked or flailed in his sleep. Some photos and video were taken for blackmail purposes. Obviously.

It wasn't until breakfast was over that Cas and Sam realized they didn't join in the dragon's dream world. A worried conversation was held between them that they kept to themselves for the moment. Probably nothing. It's not like people remember every single dream they've ever had. But they also knew, deep down, the communication spell wasn't going to last forever. And before they knew it, it would be back to hearing nothing but growls and chirps. At least they still had sign language. Provided Dean was in control. Dane would have to be taught English but they simply don't have time for that. The solstice is fast approaching. Just two days. By tomorrow night, this will all be over, one way or another.

They called Meg up and told her their loose plan and to be ready for them to show up at any time. If all went well today, they'll reach the base and start the war. Balth was on the phone with Wes and Brandon and they were readying themselves for the _after_ battle. Taking the second half of the battle in their own hands and other conspiracy hunters. Once they get everyone out of there and a safe distance away, the whole country would be informed of the whereabouts of the base and that they were holding supernatural creatures hostage there. People would travel from miles around for a look and they'll turn it into the area 51 for monsters. They told Meg Eve's real name and she made sure to use it the next time they spoke. Meg was already sending them all the evidence they'll need with Cricket behind bars. Telling her to pose in different ways for variety's sake. Later on, she'll send them all the photo's they'll need to get to the base and it's weak spots. She'll have to make sure she is out of every shot, or else she'll be number one on the General's hit list. Of course this will be the last the world hears of 'Meg Masters', she'll no doubt have some help coming up with a new name and identity. They conversed back and forth and reassured her that once the mother is out of that base, there would be no way for them to turn her brother Crowley into a dragon. She told them that she already spoke to Cricket and the dragon more or less promised she wouldn't turn either of them into one. 

Morning turned to noon and finally they had enough tiptoeing around a sleeping Drauglin. It's time to get going. They collectively jumped onto his wing but slid on their asses when it just pulled in closer to the body. After gathering themselves again, they circled his face and yelled into his ears, he cracked an eye open and squinted tiredly at them before nudging them away and curling his head underneath his wing. 

'Five more minutes.' he mumbled. 

Balth ducked under the wing next to his head and jammed his hand into Dean's side fan ear and wiggled his fingers in the waxy canal. _That_ got a reaction! Dean instantly lifted his head off the ground and Balth had enough sense to tuck and roll away as a hand the size of the truck lifted and scratched at his ear furiously. Digging a claw into the hole and scraping the sides out and wiping it on the ground. All the while his tongue flicked in and out and his eyes twitched. He shivered and got up, staggering a bit before glaring down at all of the humans. Four of them pointing to the fifth who was trying to slink away. Dean dipped his head down low and exhaled at Balth, making his clothes ripple before turning around and facing the music. 

“Dean! So glad you're up!” Balth said in a buttery sugar sweet voice with just a hint of panic.

Dean smirked a little sinisterly. 'Oh, I'm _up_ , and so are _you_.' And using his hand, wrapped around Balthazar's body and plopped him down on his spiked forehead and skyrocketed it into the air, fifty feet in 3 seconds. He made sure the human was safe, balancing his head no matter which way Balthazar pitched and swayed. Dean looked down without his head angling that way, and merrily chirped, 'We're up! Let's go!' and started to walk with Balthazar clutching onto the small spikes on his forehead and screaming obscenities. He had to fold his ears closed and up, giving his friend something soft to hold onto that he could actually grip in a fist. It pinched, and honestly hurt worse then that pathetic excuse for a wet willy, but it was so worth it. The others ran to the car and truck, throwing their few belongings that weren't yet packed away into the trunk and started after the sashaying giant. Dean kept his head perfectly level and steady but his body was all over the place just to fuck with him for a few seconds. He lowered Balth back down once the truck overtook him. Both slowing so Balth could slide off of his head to the truck bed. Practically kissing the blankets that were still strewn around in the back. 

Once he got his breath back, Balthazar couldn't hold in his laughter. He shook his index finger at Dean and then flipped him off, grinning the whole while now that the prank ended. “Truce?”

Dean nodded, glad he didn't misjudge his friend's willingness to just go along with the ride. Now that it's done of course. 

“That was pretty cool, actually.” he brushed himself down and declined Dean's waggled eyebrow offer to go again. “Once is enough Dean-o.” and the convoy started up again, Balth was fine riding along in the bed of the truck. Rufus handed over a shotgun through the window and Balth accepted it with a slight frown. Back to business. They couldn't drive too fast down the dirt path so they took the time to organize the car and truck, make it easier to get to the weapons if they needed them on the way, which they most assuredly will. They had a damned 50 foot dragon following them. They were going to get attention no matter where they go. 

When they got closer to the outer city limits, Dean stayed close to the farmlands, ducking often when cars drove by. He wondered at the ability for normal folks to ignore small freckled hills with a line of large black spikes coming out of them. When he couldn't help but pass over a major highway, he walked along it, and eventually found a river that it passed over. He hated having to travel solo but it was necessary. They had a few meeting spots along the way just to make sure that neither one was in trouble. Being able to backtrack if they didn't make it to the check points. From here till the base, he couldn't have any passengers, and certainly wasn't confident enough to fly with one. All the same, his heart beat faster each time he saw a car travel down the road. Now, he'll have to stay underwater for at least a few solid minutes for him to pass under the highway's bridge. The water wasn't deep enough for him to be fully submerged however, but he was too close to stop and turn around to look for a larger river. He pulled in tight when he was underneath the double bridge and just barely fit past the support beams. The concrete scraping his wings until he lifted them up over his body just long enough to pass through then surrounded his body with them before being visible again on the other side. He kept his head down, skimming the water and trying like crazy to stay very low and slow. Any quick movements would catch someone's eye. Thankfully, this being a highway, people were going too fast to notice much of anything as he crept along. Thankful for a line of trees further down that he used to hide himself. He finally turned his head and saw the highway continue to shuttle people from A to B, with no one being the wiser. He kept on going straight south, going to meet up with them at the place where there was a big wooden chair on a cliff, then after that, two major rivers converge further upstream then the base. He asked Dane for help, his internal GPS wasn't all that great, so thankfully Dane was up for the task. Putting miles and miles under their feet. 

Back in the Impala and truck, they were being kept up to date on where the Drauglin was via Meg and the transceiver she was hunched over and studying avidly. She was in the ladies room down the hall from Cricket's cell. Locked in the handicap stall and texting out any change in direction that the readings were indicating relative to her fixed position. Some fancy equipment she 'borrowed' to make sense of the beeping readings. Mainly to determine the minuscule space between beeps and how they were getting ever so slightly faster. Dean was getting closer every minute. 

Cas drove while Sam poured over the maps, using a red marker to track out where his brother was every time. Using his compass and calculator and best guess. “Ok, Dean's getting really close to the first rest station. We should be there in,” he checked his watch and the odometer and the GPS readout of their own location. “In 10 to 15 minutes.” 

They drove in silence until reaching the site of the world's largest wooden rocking chair. They parked and got out, waiting for Rufus, Balthazar and Bobby to show up. Dean should be in hiding until all the humans were there, to minimize exposure. Still, Sam couldn't help but wander around the place, hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother in the tall trees surrounding the old half rotten rocking chair that wasn't all that big. Maybe seeing something that defies reality everyday made everything else pale in comparison. Meg texted back, showing that Dean was still on the move to their location. Just then, a full busload of tourists pulled up and parked on the other side of the parking lot from the Impala. It was hugging a line of Cyprus trees that would hide it from view if Dean came from the north. Sam started up an internal scream of curses.

All the families from the bus poured out like water and made their way into the small store to use the bathroom or get refreshments. Sam and Cas froze stock still. Shit. They picked this spot because it was the only place geographically unique enough for Dean to find and them to drive to. The rocking chair was on top of a rocky cliff that wasn't too tall, but probably helped in making the chair seem bigger then it is. Being seen for miles. A few minutes pass and some of the kids escape their parents to go climb up onto the rocking chair for 5 dollars a minute. Lots of photos were taken by the owner, gleefully counting up the cash and ignoring the parents grumbling about the ripoff. People were everywhere. Sam and Cas pretended to take interest in the scenery, holding out their phones as if they were taking pics too. They scanned everywhere for any sign of the dragon. Nothing. Hopefully that meant that Dean knew about the unexpected bus and was going to hide for as long as it takes. 

The crowd thins out, money spent and overpriced snacks and souvenirs bought and showed off to each other. The bus driver calmly flickering the lights to get everyone's attention that the 'America's Amazing Attractions' road trip must go on schedule. Cas and Sam breath a little sigh of relief as the bus is nearly full again. 

Then, the truck appears and parks next to the Impala. And not _ten seconds later,_ Dane scales the cliff and stands off to the side for a few precious seconds to see everyone gathered before taking a few steps closer and into view. He immediately freezes, one hand still up in the air when he hears a shrill shriek from the other end of the lot. His eyes go wide. He didn't even see that bus there! He's never seen so many humans and is shaking instantly. Dean watching it all like in slow motion.

Sam and Cas are faster then the others and run towards Dane, knowing it's his side just by the way he's holding up his wings properly. _Shit_. Dane's not so good with people. Sam has a thought that just jolted into his head and he takes out his camera and snaps some pictures, saying quiet loudly to Cas, “This is the _fake dragon_ you were talking about?” he then nods at Dane to play along and holds his other hand out to keep the dragon frozen in place. Hoping he trusts them enough to do it and not attack defensively or run away. His large green eyes dart back to the woods but Sam whispers urgently, “Stay still!”

Dane remembers Dean saying something about dragons in movies and paintings and how they're usually depicted as roaring and vicious. Very slowly he bares his fangs and curves his raised hand a little to show off his claws as his heart is beating double time. This is the craziest thing he's ever done.

The bus is unloaded in seconds. Kids are screaming excitedly and parents are murmuring about how lifelike it is and that it wasn't in the brochure. Everyone grabbing camera's and cell phones and aiming it at Dane who fights to keep himself from blinking. He fails. People gasp with hands over their mouths.

Cas to the rescue, “Yeah! The animatronics were said to be the best in the world!” and winks at Dane to move.

Dane remains still as he can be, Dean watching the whole time and finally forcing control of the body. Dane seems to collapse once hes pushed back, relieved that he doesn't have to figure out what to do. Dean whispers to Dane, “I got this.” 

Dean's wings relax and Sam's breath hitches for a second, knowing that Dean is now in control and giving a look to the other guys to notice it too. Sam keeps pretending to take pictures and talking about how it's a B movie prop that was used in a foreign film that didn't make a lot of money. Trying to make it seem like the dragon wasn't all that special. 

Dean took slight offense to that, he channeled his inner robot dancing and jerkily moved his raised hand to claw at the air and back. Making it seem like it was only able to move in the one up and down direction. The other feet planted firmly on the ground. He lifted up his wings and opened them, equally jerky and uncoordinated and flapped them up and down and not nearly as fluidly. Lately he'd been working on making them dance gracefully. Now he prided himself on how well he was performing. The kids loved it and begged their parents to be able to climb up.

The parents then asked the store owner who just stood at the back, gawking silently. He was pulled aside by a sweaty father and handed a wad of cash to let his princess get on the dragon's back for a photo op. The store owner looked at the money handed to him and let it fall to the ground mutely before turning heel and running into the shop, slamming the door shut. 

Dean was actually having a little fun. He always liked kids and these guys must have been absolutely desperate for something more interesting then a wooden chair to look at. He opened up his maw and as stiff and fake as possible, he roared monotonously at Sam and Cas, 'Let them climb.' and then growled out equally robotically, 'I don't mind.' and lowered his wings to the ground. His huge clawed hand jerkily curved upwards and his index finger gave the 'Come here' sign. Then the scaled bastard winked down at the group of kids at his feet.

Sam would have some choice words to say to his brother for this. But for now, he stood back with the parents as a few brave kids used Dean's wings to scale up onto his back. They jumped around and Dean hid a snicker at how much it ticked with another fake roar, 'Come on up, Sammy.' and 'You too Cas, picture time!' and made his raised hand claw the air some more for the photos the parents were taking. He lowered his head in a 90 degree angle downwards from his shoulders to pretend lunge towards Cas and Sam, earning some gasps from the crowd. His jaw never closed of course, didn't even make it closer then 10 feet off the ground when it lifted again. He felt the kids get off his back with the help of one of the parents and three others were lifted up next. 

Bobby and Rufus chuckled and Balthazar just looked at them incredulously. “What? Let the boys have some fun. Dean loves kids.” And took some pictures themselves. “Ten bucks says this doesn't even make the news. That boy is good at making himself hide in plain sight. Always has been.” Bobby said proudly. “He and Sam could walk into a room with suits and fake ID's and people throw their most personal information at them, never questioning if they're for real or not. They're that good at making people believe they are what they say they are.”

Rufus cut in, “Course it helps that the average person will excuse the supernatural as mundane even if it's staring them in the face. Here it's harmless, but out there, people see a Windigo kill and claim its coyotes.” he shook his head. Sometimes wishing he could go back to blissful ignorance. 

Once all the kids got their turn, but hung around, Sam and Cas took up Dean's offer and climbed up onto his back next, spending so much time up there, 'exploring' that everyone else just filed back into the bus and left. More pics taken as they pull away. Dean surreptitiously turns to watch the bus go and then look around the area again, being able to see further then the others now that he's on top of the cliff. 

'We're clear.' he chirped and relaxed his posture. Flapping the wings a little to rid himself of the residual tingles little feet made on his thin membrane scales. 'That was _awesome_.' Dean grinned and turned to look at his brother and mate who were trying to stay steady on the moving back. Are you two riding or driving?' and started walking towards the Impala.

“Driving.” Sam stated and waited for Dean to lift up his hand for the express elevator down. Climbing the wing was easier going up than down and he's just grateful as hell that no one was injured. Sam was about to reprimand Dean for letting little _little_ kids on him but it's not exactly like Dean himself could say there's an age limit. The parent that was helping them up and down seemed to be used to that kind of thing and he wondered briefly how exactly one gets used to it.

Dean looked in at the store and felt a little bad for stealing the show today. But, hey, it got people talking about his shop and more people might be coming here in the future. Of course the guy will have to build a dragon, but at least he got some potential repeat customers. Dean walked closer to the store and asked Cas to translate for him, 'Hey man, thanks for not ratting us out. We appreciate it.' and pat the roof of the store that was more or less level with his elbows. 

'Hey Sammy! If this whole cure doesn't work out, we can just make our money at state fares!' he joked, just to tick off his little brother. He could tell Sam wanted to discuss what happened and decided to poke him a bit. He was surprised when Sam went along with his idea. 

“Or better yet, we sell you to Peter Jackson and you are the next Lord of the Rings character!” Sam laughed and Dean missed hearing it. They all sobered up though when Bobby and Rufus went back to the truck, motioning at their watches simultaneously like they'd planned it. 

'Back to work. Let's go.' Dean nose bumped the Impala and made his way towards the forest on the other side of the cliff that would slope down to the river canyon. 'See you at the fork,' he called back before disappearing into the woods. 

Dane was also grinning, he never saw so many bipeds in one spot and finally got to see what the females of the species looked like. They cared for their young and it was good to see the whole herd working together and making sure the kids were having fun safely. He was also getting the little buzz of delight from Dean for seeing and playing with the youngsters. It made him even more happy to feel it as they slunk down the slope and found the trickle of water that would feed into the larger river. Following it all the way to the fork. They had some miles to go.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up to the end very soon! Comment and kudos if you'd like more!


	35. Cry Havoc! And Let Slip the Dragons of War!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble at the fork in the river forces brother against brother.  
> Nsfw like seriously. People die bloody. Gore galore. Other then that, have fun!

Chapter 35:

Cry Havoc! And let Slip the Dragon's of War.

 

 

 

Dean let Dane lead for awhile, knowing that the Drauglin would be better at handling the body in this natural environment. Dean wasn't really into long tedious hikes and was totally cool with hanging back and resting. After another few hours, Dane needed a break and napped in the shadow of a moderately sized hill, sun directly overhead and warm. He joined Dean in the mindscape. Resting there as well, curled fully around Dean's tree. Dean reached out his hand and rubbed it along Dane's snout. Hardly aware that it relaxed himself as well, he kept it up until the Drauglin feel into a deeper sleep. He thought it was cute that Dane choose to be just 20 feet tall, rather then the 50 feet that's awaiting whichever one wanted to take the reins next. Dean tiredly set his watch for two hours, and didn't question the effectiveness of his literal internal clock. It manifesting itself like anything else here, in the most straightforward ways sometimes. He shifted his position, inch by inch to lean up against Dane's side, finding it far more comfortable then imaginary trees. Sure, he could make a bed out of the thin air here, but that wouldn't be nearly as cool. He was still amazed at how in tune the two unlikely bunk mates were. Even if they didn't see things the same way. There was an underlying understanding of where the other was coming from and respect for each other stemmed from that. An invisible thread connecting them, even when they fight. At the moment, they were too tired to care that they even snored the same.

Bobby rode shotgun again as he and Rufus would be taking the Impala to stock up on supplies of the Supernatural variety. Their stash of Devil's Shoestring had unexpectedly grown mold and they didn't want to chance this all important spell to a slight bit of plant rot. The two vehicles arrived at the fork in the river and ate lunch while they waited for Dean. Half an hour afterwards, there was still no sign of him. The Drauglin's absence heavy in the air. They searched for him for a little while, but knew that they couldn't even find the camouflaged Drauglin even when he was hiding in a pine tree right in front of them. They were surrounded by deep forests and the majestic and actually quite distressing river. The crashing water seemed to want out of it's banks at any given moment. A large prominent boulder split the two joining rivers for a moment before they combined again. It would be somewhat easy to leap the short distance to it and be surrounded by the water. Perfect for picture taking so therefore the area was littered with beer cans and garbage. Disappointment in humanity clear in everyone's eyes.

Finding parking at the scenic overlook, they kept a close eye on the lone road leading to the fork in the river. Wary of being caught with their pants down again with another tour bus or car load of kids. At least this place was quiet enough, if you don't count the deafening river nearby. Listening for a dragon's roar with that as a backdrop would be difficult at best so they kept their eyes open.

Partly to distract, the other part for preparedness, they double checked their numerous spell ingredients. Spell/plans A through C. Still not wanting to discuss plan D yet with Cas till Dean made his final decision on the matter, it would only add undue worry for something that wont likely happen. They'd also need to make a trip to Bobby's for that one, the all important charm required is one of a kind and in the old hunter's safe. Hopefully still safe after Azazel's gang ransacked his house.

Sam paced nervously. Patience growing thin with the continued absence of his brother. He knew it would have been very hard for Dean to travel with himself as small passenger, but wished he just bullied his brother into letting him tag along anyway. He wouldn't get in the way. He can hold his breath underwater _too_... and if Dean needed to run, he could hold on tight enough. He could have _tried_ at least. His brother may be gigantic, but he was all alone. Emotionally, he did not want to split up like this, but, he understood logically that they needed to. Dean needed tree cover if he was to make it all this way to the base without being spotted. At least not spotted until it was too late for the enemy to do anything besides run for their lives away from the raging fireballs. This idea of Dean's was just too similar to the last hunt they'd been on when the Winchester brothers were both human. Dean was taking on the Big Bad while the others took care of the smaller problems. Backup. Sure, he didn't doubt Dean could take out half the military flyig solo, just using his fires alone, but dammit he shouldn't _have_ to!

Balth was suddenly there and patting the taller man's back and shoulder, silent reassurance. Sam grinned down to him and took a few deep calming breaths and looked up and around the area again. Still no sign. Time was wasting. There was no news from Meg, because apparently she had to leave the bathroom where she made her base of operations. No doubt being discovered missing for several hours and needing the time to find a new place to set up her covert monitoring station again. They decided not to call her and see in case there were people hovering over her shoulder.

“Rufus and I are going on the last supply run. We wont have time for another before Solstice night. So if you got any requests, let's hear 'em.”

Sam asked for more dream root and ingredients for the communication spell, finally spilling the beans on his suspicion that it's wearing off. Since Dean was asleep the first time the spell was cast, they didn't have any idea how long it takes to activate. They also didn't know if it would interfere with the other more important spell that will bring Dean back to the human race, so they'd get the stuff, but just in case.

Balth asked for more dragon herb and was denied by all three hunters. It was too hard to find and even then far too expensive. If Balth wanted more, then they'd have to pilfer it from the base when they're there. Balthazar rubbed his hands together, up for the challenge. If he got just one or two leaves of it intact, he could grow more from it's clippings in a nutrient rich solution. Or, figure out it's genetic makeup and contact some biologists if they could grow more from the pulpy mush practically, or using cloning technology. The finest and most brilliant high he'd ever had on that plant. Oh and to use it against bad dragons as well. _Obviously._

Dean was nearing the fork in the river, maybe ten miles away, hearing and sensing the change in current as he walked down the center of it, the raging waters only coming up to his knees and a few feet of underbelly. He could probably submerge but there was no reason to. He assumed.

He spotted movement before he scented the change in the air. His body coming slowly to a standstill, if he stopped abruptly, the water would slosh and splash and announce his presence loudly. So he slowed down and looked around the area that caught his attention for that brief second.

Dane was nudged awake in the mindscape, coming slowly to awareness. Dean asked him to keep an eye and ear out alongside him, searching for something he'd miss as Dean made their gaze scan the undergrowth. His own kind of backup since he's basically by himself out here.

Dean said internally only, 'Do the nose, I got eyes and ears.' and dipped his head lower, inhaling deeply for Dane to dissect the scents while his eyes studied the ground. His ears turned this way and that, trying to pick up that sound, twig snap? Gun cocking? Two clicks or snaps... which one was it.

Dane closed his eyes to focus on the smells of the forest. 'Dean? There's bipeds here.' His eyes shot open as that realization slapped him in the face. 'Dean!'

The Drauglin's eyes shot left and right, taking control of all the senses, jerking them to attention and found one woman standing not far away on the other side of the river from where he was searching. He nearly jumped out of his skin. It was like she just appeared out of nowhere. She was wearing civilian cloths, flannel with a shotgun over her shoulder. Surprisingly, as the brunette woman stood there staring, another blond woman came walking up behind her, eyes down at the path to watch where she stepped, before running into her friend, she looked up quizzically then immediately saw what made her companion stop dead.

Dean side stepped away from them, eyes darting around. Worry in his expression. He then scented gun powder. A _lot_ of gun powder... more then that little shotgun in the brunette's hands. His gaze went from the area back down to the two women and frowned. Shit. These Civies were about to be caught in the middle of his battle. Stumbling in the middle of his own ambush.

'Ladies, you should run.' He warned quietly and cursed internally, so used to being understood by someone if he spoke. He lifted up his hand, giving another quick look around, ears straining, trying to figure out if the soldiers in the area had spotted him yet. He didn't hear any command yet to fire or to circle him, but it was going to come too soon. He hoped they knew sign language, his fingers pointedly and exaggeratedly spelled out one word, 'RUN' and pointed in the opposite way they came. They didn't move, still staring.

He huffed and made his hand into the facsimile of a person and made the walking gesture, then pointed at them and then behind the ladies again. He then brought his wing wrist in front, wing fingers still folded and tapped his index claw on his wing wrist, indicating to any person that knows what a watch is, that time's wasting.

Too late. He heard several guns cocking and spun around in the river, growling low in his throat at the invisible intruders. He hissed and heard silence as a response for a few drawn out seconds before turning to the ladies again, the one with the shotgun held it shakily in front of herself, aiming more or less lazily at his legs instead of his head. Unsure if she should fire.

'Sorry about this.' He chirped and reached forward with his immense right hand, unfolded out as wide as a queen sized bed to encompass as much of them as possible in his bullet proof scales. Fingers splayed quickly to grab them both in a loose fist. He closed his fingers carefully around their bodies in one motion and brought them up high, screaming and pinned together, to his broad chest. He didn't hesitate before bolting three legged into the woods, a volley of bullets lobbing into his retreating form. He didn't feel the harsh sting of them, only about a third like minor bug bites, the rest ricocheting off of his hide. But the girls would be dead in seconds if he wavered just a little. He crashed through the woods, too big to move stealthily until he got a great distance away from the bullets and shouting. He panted a little, looking behind himself again, making sure he had a good head start. Then down to the two disheveled and terrified women in his grasp. A concerned look on his face at their fearful stare. He brought them up a little to inspect them. They whimpered and squirmed in his grip and he frowned a little at their mistrust even after he saved their lives back there. He found a pile of boulders and put his other hand on the center, forcing them into a rough bowl shape and gently lowered the girls into the center. They stumbled a little but found their feet again and looked up, terrified of what he'll do next. They probably thought he put them there to trap them. The walls of the rocky bowl were too tall to climb out of in a hurry. The one with the shotgun seems to have forgotten it existed, having more worry for her companion's stunned silence as they blindly clutched at each other.

It looked like they wanted to scream again, but he lifted his index finger to his lips and shushed them, looking over his shoulder quickly and then back down. Shushing them intently with pinched eyebrows. He hated scaring people just by looking the way he does. He figured it wouldn't hurt to sign, 'Stay.' and left them there, doubling back on his path and hiding the churned earth with some trees he uprooted from the side of a cliff and punched them into the ground to form a fence of sorts. Hiding their location. He saw them still in the middle of the boulders and gave the signal to crouch down and be quiet again before leaving them. Once he was a couple thousand feet away, he growled and got the attention of the soldiers again. Comforted in the knowledge that he saved those ladies' lives.

 

“Jody?” Donna warily asked. Her hand finding her partners shoulder and shaking it a little.

Jody's shotgun was hanging limply by her side. She nodded minutely and mouth still gaped. “That... that was...”

“I know.”

“But he...”

“I know.” Donna said a little quietly, a hint of excitement. “Spike thought we were in trouble and _saved us_.”

Jody's hand waved in the general direction their quarry went. “But, he didn't know we were actually here for Walker... he just...”

“Yeah,” Donna's smile started to grow. After finding the fugitives campsite, they'd been promoted but chose to stay in the field, scouting the area ahead of their trained male dragon, making sure the back up teams of soldiers that patrolled the grounds all around the base were ready for attacks of any kind. They had spent the majority of their days trying to track down Spike again but were called back to help with Walker's first time out. Seeing how their own dragon would react to 'civilians'.

They'd much prefer searching for the missing _dangerous_ dragon. Their companions giving up the operation after talk about how fruitless it would be to go up against something that deadly and utterly evil. No one suspected that the tan freckled monster be that gentle, kind. To _armed strangers_. In the middle of a _gunfight_. He could have escaped sooner, been less injured and gotten a head start but he stopped to save their lives.

Donna's mind caught up to her, they'd actually forgotten to tell base where they were. Their fellow soldiers had no idea their exact position when they opened fire. They could have _died_ by friendly fire but their enemy was the one to save their lives. It was too much to process all at once. The soldiers in the woods were probably no more then a handful of people, the dragon could have taken them out without breaking a sweat, but it chose to spare them. Spike was crashing through the woods now, drawing attention away from their boulder nest he formed for them. Not only did he make a nest, he figured out that he'd needed some material strong enough to resist the high powered shells being shot at him. Proving once and for all his compassion and intelligence. There was only one reason why he would be in this area. They knew it and their hearts were actually warmed by the thought.

“We need to help him.” Jody said, determination in her voice. Thinking of what they'd do to save their wrongfully imprisoned family.

Donna's grin got even wider and she hip checked her partner. “Yer darn tootin'!”

 

Once he was far enough away from those two women, he roared loudly for those few armed toy soldiers to follow him. They were basically harmless against him, but if they joined their buddies at the base, that would be just that many more people to contend with when the shit hits the fan. He made enough of a fuss to have them call backup, drawing more out of the hornet's nest. His location was already compromised. No way in hell was he lucky enough to think that they wouldn't call this in. Might as well make the most of this bad situation. Besides, his family was downstream by now. If he went to the fork now, he'd just have this gang of misfits following him straight there. _Shit_.

Dane agreed with him, he'll draw them north for a little while then fly south going a different route. Otherwise he'd be leaving tracks everywhere he goes. He didn't really want to fly, but there was little to no choice. They'd be watching the whole river any minute now. Double shit. They'll find his family at the fork!

Dean figured he led the literal handful of soldiers far enough away and found a clearing to churn up. Making a few different exit paths for them to try and follow, discuss and debate while he took the one to the west and then flew off downstream. His body, being so damned huge and powerful now, didn't take long to get extremely high into the air. He and Dane had been so used to giving their all to get even four feet off the ground when they were little, it's now equivalent 450 feet in the air. Dean's breath hitched at the sight. Faltering mid air till Dane caught Dean's attention and ripped control from him. Dane stuttered in his flaps but soon found the balance and speed he wanted. Inwardly seeing Dean's form thrown to the ground of their mind, sprawled out like he'd been sucker punched. 'Sorry.'

Dean panted on the grass, looking upside down at the world and working on steadying his breathing. Rather then make a sarcastic comeback he just flopped back onto the grass. Finding comfort in it and fooling himself into thinking it's real solid ground and not what the mind made up as a middle ground for the two souls.

Dean was just grateful that Dane didn't think less of him for having a panic attack just then. Dean closed his eyes, tried to breath but only felt what Dane was going through right now. The kid was new to this as well, and scared, but he was still trying to focus on each wing flap. Ignoring just how much of an impact each wing thrust made on the old trees and land. Whipping them into a thunderstorm like frenzy if he flew too close. He could see the fork in the distance. Farther then they thought they were. One figure standing there, no truck or Impala. Dane debated what to do next.

 

Sam waved off Bobby and Rufus as they took the Impala back down the road towards the nearest hunter cache house. Sam turned to Cas and Balthazar, fiddling with the keys in his hand. Mind made up. “We can't wait for him to show up before starting the attack. You two take the truck and head to the front gate.”

“Where will you be?” Balthazar asked, accepting the keys before realizing that they were for a stick shift then handing them to Castiel to drive. Not long enough time to suddenly learn how to drive stick.

“I'll wait for Dean here.” and firmed his jaw. He went to the truck and pulled out his bag of mixed munitions and another high caliber rifle to join his .410 shotgun. They loaded up half of the guns with silver bullets and marked them with duck taped handles so they'd know to reserve those for supernatural related emergencies.

Balthazar and Cas couldn't have anything threatening visible in their truck or else they'd get arrested by the MP's. They had a couple of handguns hidden in the bed of the truck, inside one of the hollow walls where Rufus kept his backups. But that was for later when the fires start. Cas and Balthazar were the ones to wear the riot gear since they wouldn't have Dean within easy reach to block bullets. Both wanted the others to wear the gear instead but it was unanimously voted by the hunters of their five team group.

Sam could tell that they'd wanted to protest splitting up even further, but knew that there was no other way. Either Cas or Sam had to meet Dean or else Dean wouldn't know that they were here or where everyone went. The only ones able to understand him without resorting to time consuming sign language had to split up between the separate attack points. They didn't have time to figure out what Dean's fingers were doing while they're all being shot at. And, if for some reason Dane was stuck in control, the Drauglin wouldn't be able to use sign language at all besides telling everyone his name. So sign language was right out, especially if they weren't eye to eye with each other. Dean simply needed his hands free so Sam and Cas needed to be at opposite ends of the base should Dean show up.

Sam hugged Balth and Cas and hitched up his bag-o-guns before standing stoically on top of the huge rock at the junction of the two rivers. Feeling pretty bad ass for this pose he's striking, and getting a playful wolf whistle from Balth.

“Better survive, Rambo!” Balthazar cheered as Cas turned on the truck to quickly head out. “It would be a crime against humanity to loose that fine ass!”

Sam's hero pose was still firmly intact as he hefted up the rifle onto his other shoulder and shouted back, “Still not gay, Balth!” as the truck disappeared among the trees and rocks. He heard loud laughing echoing into the distance and then his bravado faded. His grin falling. The sounds of nature growing to mock how insecure and alone he feels. Hoping that he was right and that Dean was simply a little late and hadn't shown up yet. That he was still coming and would need his little brother's help. He faced north, the enemy behind him to the southeast. “Where _are_ you?” he breathed into the wind.

 

'Agghh _again_?!' Dane roared and felt impacts along his belly from ground fire. He swayed back and forth and dodged most of them. 'Fuck those ones sting!' Dane cussed and brought Dean out of his daze.

“What's going on?” Dean averted his eyes from the sight of trees whipping by at breakneck speeds below them. The vertigo from looking at his own made up trees mingling with the real ones outside made him a little nauseous.

'I see someone at the fork but they're alone, those assholes are shooting at us again, and there's more this time! Dean... I don't know if I can do this.'

Dean nodded and got to his feet like a drunk from the floor. His fear of heights amplified now that he's out of control of where the body's going. He can feel his own sway with each wing flap and dodge Dane's making out there. Might as well bite the bullet. “Want me to uh- ?”

' _Yes_!' Dane shouted and ducked back to let Dean come forward again. This time he rose high enough that when the transition happened, they wouldn't fall on their face again like the last time Dane shoved him forward while leaping after the wild boar.

Dean faltered for a second until he found a nice middle ground. His feet more or less pulled up to his body, sometimes pretending like he's leaping through the air to give the illusion that he's not that high off the ground. His neck stretching out in front of him like a bird and tail whipping around like a rudder. The wind acting differently under his simply titanic wings slicing through and pushing it down. Almost like swimming. Adamantly not thinking about it like he's flying over trees but rather a model of a forest. More training done back at the cabin. He knew he had flown relatively high off the ground without panicking before. This should be no different. Relatively speaking he's soaring about 12 feet above the ground if his body was 6 feet tall. Wings running into the tallest tree tops on the full downward strokes. A couple hundred feet for humans, but no, just about 12 feet for him. A dozen feet. If he fell, it wouldn't even hurt him. This is nothing. Child's play.

When he was nine and Sammy five, he once dove off of the roof of a garage because he was dressed like Superman. Sam jumped off too right after because he was dressed up like Batman that year, and immediately broke his arm. Always wanting to be like his big brother, he jumped without hesitation. Dean had dressed like Batman the year previous and had always admired that superhero but relented to handing his Batarang over to his puppy eyed apprentice. Regretting the stunt instantly the way that kids always do when something bad happens. Of course, instead of downplaying the injury as he's seen other classmates do, when they're more worried about getting in trouble then getting help, Dean hoisted up his brother in his arms and carried him to his bike. _Take_ _care_ _of_ _Sammy,_ pounding in his head.

He never told his father about that, the man was never around much anyway. There was a great fear of even stricter punishments for both of the boys. More restrictions on their free time to just be kids. As the older brother, Dean was responsible for his little brother getting hurt, so he drove him on his handlebars all the way to the emergency room. At least he was able to talk their way out of foster care afterwards with a few convincing lies and a call to Bobby to vouch for them. Bobby wasn't happy, but understood. At least it wasn't a monster attack. He told John later and talked him out of berating them too much for the accident. Dean was already beating himself up far too much for his little Sammy getting injured on his watch. John instead praised the boys for their quick reactions, and ability to lie their way out of trouble with the doctors. The garage was completely off limits though, and the boys didn't bother disputing the rule. Ever since, they didn't much care for them.

That garage roof was _much_ taller then this. He can do this. He smirked when he remembered the reason why the costumed brother's were up there in the first place. Sam dressed like Batman and Dean like Superman because the younger brother wanted to see what superheros see. He could still hear his little brother complaining weakly, good arm cradling the broken one as Dean raced to the hospital, 'Why couldn't I fly like Batman?' His own reply echoing, breathing hard from bicycling for so long, 'Everyone knows it's Superman that flies.' And Sam's pout, not quite fully formed bitchface that he'll grow into, muttering, 'I didn't know that.'

He's pulled from his memories the second he sees a line of smoke rising from the trees, a glow from under them. Screams in the woods. Far too close to the lone human at the river. He sees the figure immediately move into action. A rifle appearing and aiming at the glow. The small shuffle of steps to the side, trying to figure out a way out of the corner they put themselves in. The defensive moves so familiar. 'Sammy...'

 

The deep black/brown dragon hunched low, successfully ducking out of the hunting party he was supposed to be leading. Only took a few well placed leaps and he was clear of the sharpened bullets and herb tranquilizers. He felt the sting of the implant non-stop. The confusion and panic on his handlers faces when they realized all too late that it didn't have any real effect on him was priceless. Punching the dials in the vain hopes that it will put out more power to sedate the rampaging monster. At first, he just wanted to ditch them. Now they were pissing him off. He circled around and found them easily enough. His jaw opened wide and he set fire to the entire clearing. A few split from the group, ditching their weapons almost as fast as they threw off their smoldering and fiery clothes. Screaming about the burning fiery acid. He chuckled darkly, watching the small humans panic. He crouched low and watched the show from a hidden spot nearby. One of them wasn't watching where he was going and started running into the woods near Walker's spot. Gordon opened up his mouth and hissed at the near blind man. Hands on his face trying to wipe off the flames. _Complete agony_. Gordon flicked his tongue forward and coiled it around the body, pulling it in quickly to bite down on the man, slowly. Listening to the horrified screams of pain before he snapped his jaws shut and silenced him. Blood poured from the body's gaping holes from his fangs, the lingering fires igniting his saliva that dripped a lot more now. Marveling at how nicely the man tasted.

All this time around the soldiers and scientists and not once did he think how amazing they'd taste. Inside, and out. He hesitated for only a few seconds before he pulled the nearly halved body fully into his mouth and chewed. New flavors from the different organs spreading on his palette. Like tasted the finest cut of beef, or porcine meat. Human meat was sometimes referred to as 'Long pig'. Apt name. This charred man was reminiscent of nice crispy bacon and he played with the meat in his mouth for a moment longer before swallowing the mouthful.

His eyes rolled at how good that tasted and he hungrily looked back at the handlers. Half of them missing now, the other half trying to put out the fires on theirs and their comrades bodies. He stalked forward and took out the men that stood outside of the group just a little too far. Picking them off silently. Smothering them in his mouth before chewing to hide their screams. He couldn't help a moan of pleasure with each new delicacy. Each one having their own unique taste. A lifetime of eating their favorite foods thoroughly flavored the meat. Each one better then the last. The soldier that smoked menthol's tasted like sickness and ash but he soon washed him down with the next in line, a juicy morsel that surprised him with the sweetness in his bones. He suckled that body like a hard candy before reluctantly swallowing. The gristle melted in his mouth. So fantastic he licked his lips clean of all blood. He hoped that the military would send more soldiers to retrieve him. More mouthfuls to satisfy his hunger. He could never go back to eating regular animals.

His eagerness to gorge himself was almost overwhelming. His muscles quivered with joy. The thought of this planet being inhabited by _billions_ of meals was intoxicating. At first, he just planned on killing the soldiers to escape. Now he was blind with blood lust and wondered how he could keep on bingeing on humans before getting caught again. He had to calm down. Regroup. The food was delicious but it wasn't filling. He was up to five whole cows a day and this paltry number of soldiers didn't come close once they were stripped of gear and cloths. Too fit and lean. He wondered how the heavier humans would taste. The different ones from other society's. The foods native to the other country's might spice up the meat in new and exciting ways. He licked his lips in anticipation to find out.

A stray thought of how far he's gone from being an honest Monster Hunter was squashed flat. _They_ made him like this. It's _their_ fault and he's going to make them all pay. But. The rational part of his mind noted that the military was still much stronger then he alone. He'd need either strategy or brute force. His stomach gurgled with it's meal, unused to the meat, it hung heavily in his stomach. He patted it with one hand and grinned. They should not have treated him like a monster. They turned him into one.

The clearing was now emptied and he tried to figure out where the runners went. The pain in his spine growing a little in intensity. One of the ones that escaped must have figured out how to up the charge. It was getting quite painful now. He turned his head and figured out which spike they embedded it in and gingerly placed his fangs on it, scraping it to get a course surface for his molars to be able to grip better. He bit down and tugged, wincing as that shock was increasing from the chip. He let go, got a better toothy grip and like removing a band aide, he pulled the spike hard and fast. Howling in pain as it was ripped from his skin. Blood pouring out of the wound. He collapsed, panting hard into the dirt and every limb twitched with the painful tremors. Every time his arms moved it was agony, his wings flailed a little when he tried to feel out the space left behind. The sting unimaginable. He regretted pulling the spike off now, this was far more painful. But, looking at the spike laying on the ground, half crushed from his gnashed teeth, he could see the small stainless steel box glinting past the chunks of his flesh and scales. At least he got it all out.

He rested for a few seconds before jerking his head back again to spit into the open wound and as that stung anew, he set it on fire. Cauterizing it. His body convulsed, crashing into trees and boulders alike. The fire sizzling his flesh until he lay, panting through the pain. Eyes squeezed shut and willing it to just stop. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the fire subsided and the blood no longer flowed out of his spine. He ached all over. Vision swimming and mind fuzzy with numb pain. After a few minutes, he knew he had to move. Reinforcements would get there soon. He staggered to his feet and started for the river. Desperate to quench his thirst. He'd need to wash off the blood and viscera from his skin as well. The tracking dogs would be able to find him too easily if he didn't. Not to mention all other predators out here. There was a reason he was released. There was another dragon out here that wanted him dead, so, if Walker couldn't turn him into an ally, then he'd need his strength to kill him.

His feet were numb as he started walking to the sounds of rushing water not far away. He found one of the escaped soldiers, bleeding out from his burns, leaning against a boulder. In so much pain the man actually looked up to the dragon with a tinge of hope. Walker was obsequious and made the man's death quick for not even trying to fight him on the inevitable. He set the corpse on fire for a few minutes then swallowed without chewing this time. It was easier. He saw the glinting of rippling water through the thick trees and sighed with relief.

The dark dragon paused when he saw movement closer to the river. He stood up straight. Mouth watering again at his good fortune. A man was standing on a tall rock outcropping at the fork in the river and held a rifle up. The stance seemed familiar, the longish brown hair, the height of the man, the layers of flannel. Hunters usually wore camo gear when hunting monsters in the woods. He'd run into him before. Back when he was human. A fellow monster Hunter. Walker looked at the man who was scanning the woods, still and patient, searching for any movement to make his few shots count. A Winchester. The younger one. Those brothers made a name for themselves in the Hunter community. Walker didn't see what all the fuss was about. He was tired of hearing about them, and now, thanks to a twist of fate, the only reason why he's standing there in the woods now, looking like a nightmare from hell, was because of those two brothers. He'd be human if it wasn't for them. Walker debated with himself if he was grateful or pissed about that fact. In any case, the young man failed at the first rule of hunting. Never hunt without backup. And the second would be the last nail in his coffin. The fool trapped himself.

 

Dean pushed harder, flying faster, hurtling towards the man standing alone on the large rocky platform. There was no sign of anyone else, but save for the military, there'd be no reason for anyone to be out here besides his family. The soldiers would never put one of there own out there without backup. No. The only one foolish enough to stay behind must be his kid brother. As he got closer, his fears confirmed it. Sam's gaze shot up and squinted at his flying shape, no doubt trying to figure out if it's friend or foe. Rifle raising to his shoulder, just in case, at least he's trying to protect himself but it might be too little too late. Dean would have a few choice curse words for him about this brilliant idea of his but in reality it was his own damned fault Sam's here alone. The others couldn't wait up for the Drauglin to show, everything was on a time table. Sam volunteered to stay and wait up for him. He would be happy about that if it weren't for the huge black shape stalking his fragile little brother.

Dean could tell the exact second Sam recognized him, giving a wave and pointing to an empty parking area for him to land. He'd thank him but he's too busy trying to figure out how to protect Sam while dive bombing the monster.

Dean shouted while still flying, 'Sammy! Get down!' but sees Sam just look up at him in confusion. Frozen in place as the other dragon stalks closer. 'Get in the water!' Dean prayed it would be deep enough to hide him. It wasn't too fast, but they can be deceiving, Sam's a good swimmer, he'd survive long enough for Dean to pluck him out of the water again. But the man didn't move, relaxing his stance and pointing some more towards the landing area.

Dean swooped his wings forward, slowing down just a fraction so he wouldn't take out too many trees. Sam saw him barrel down on his location, finally showing some concern. More wing swoops and he was slow enough to stand upright in the river, lunging his hand towards Sam's body at the same instant the monster was plowing forward and attacking. Dean pulled Sam into a tight fist and held the yelling human close to his chest, wings beating down on his opponent. He got just a little bit of air before the other one bit harshly down on his tail, pulling him down to the waters. Dean held Sam even closer and made sure his head was above water as his hind legs kicked out against the black horned head.

Dean gasped when he realized it was another dragon that looked a lot like his mother but it was a larger male and all muscle. He flipped over and glanced at Sam who was coughing up water. His grip loosened a little for him to heave properly, getting water out of his lungs as his head jerked up and back to the dark brown dragon. It was hunched low, snarling and quivering with barely concealed rage.

A low throaty growl came out of the other ones mouth, dripping with blood. 'Winchesters.'

Dean started a circle, climbing out of the rocky river and never taking his eyes off of the Drauglin. Thanking every deity out there that Sam was still alive. Now his job was to keep it that way. 'I know you?'

The other one bit out a laugh, 'You're the reason I'm a fucking _monster_.' And started to circle Dean as well, both of them subconsciously moving towards the clearing of trees. Room enough for a proper fight.

Dean just knew that Dane wouldn't react well to hearing this. The kid was always struggling with how he's being seen by others. Afraid of being considered a monster. He pulled at Dane's attention and said firmly, 'This is a fight between me and him. It's personal.' and after a few seconds he got the confirmation that Dane would stay out of it. Dean shut Dane out of the present. Kept him blind from this bigotry but also from the guilt of fighting one of their own kind. There were so few of them, Dane wouldn't want any of them dead. But that might be what needs to happen today.

Dean's grip on Sam tightened a fraction, feeling his little brother struggling to get free of the fingers. He tapped the side of his claw against Sam's leg, 'No.' in Morse code. Not yet. His eyes narrowed on the other larger Drauglin and growled out, 'If you're beef is with me, then at least tell me your name. Maybe we can come to some kind of peaceful solution.' Dean scented the air, smelling human blood and traces of human fear emanating straight from the other one. 'Or maybe I should just kill you right now for murdering humans?' Dean growled back. His wings opening a little to show off his size. Fluffing up like a cat about to kill. Dean knew he was out-sized by this guy, muscles for miles, bulky, healthy looking and taller by at least five feet. He'd taken on larger opponents back in his monster hunting days. This should be no different. Pretending his opponent is a Vellum and getting into that mindset on how to take out a larger creature.

'Put Sam down and we can settle this like real monsters.'

Dean growled again, the bastard knew Sam's name. He knew _he_ was famous, after all, how many hunters turned dragon were there? Oh... oh right. It's Gordon Walker. That name was overheard several times when Sam was talking with Meg. Something he must have missed. Gordon was recently released to hunt him down. 'And now you've been ordered to kill me, that it?' Dean kept on walking until he found a good place to stash Sam out of the corner of his eye. His wings flapped up and then down slowly and on the downward stroke he dropped Sam into a small depression the other Drauglin's foot had made when it stood there in the soft soil. Dean kicked over some dirt to cover Sam up in those few seconds his wings were down before coming up again. Fist resuming it's position at his chest as if he still held his little brother.

Dean smirked, tauntingly as he hopped again, finding it hard to look bad ass on only three legs. He had to keep both eyes on him. Thankfully Sam kept quiet and would wait for a signal from Dean. Dean wracked his brain for some kind of leverage he had on the former Hunter turned blood thirsty monster. Get him talking. 'How many have you killed.'

Walker sneered and said, 'How many have _you_?' Another step, closing the distance in their circle by a foot here and there. 'You both made quite a reputation for yourselves.' He shook his head, flexing his muscles just to show off, like he was saying that would change very soon. And it just might.

Dean left Sam's hiding place with just two steps, he gave the code word, 'Sorry, have we met? Are you that monster from Poughkeepsie?' Dean forced himself not to react if Sam took heed and dropped everything to run. Silence followed. Dean frowned. Either Sam was that good, or he didn't move. 'You're Gordon Walker aren't you.' It wasn't a question. 'You are a great Hunter. And a little unstable sure, but which one of us isn't?' Dean smirked a little self deprecatingly. Sobering up a little, trying to find the humanity that must still be in there. 'You _helped_ people.'

'Not anymore.' He shook his head, eyes firmly on Dean and his especially his fist. Glaring at it before looking back into Dean's eyes. 'The Winchesters that saved the world. What a load of shit. You couldn't even save yourself.' His eyes trailed up and down Dean's body, noting that he's not starving thin anymore. Dean was still far from being as strong as him. 'Caught by a dragon.'

'You did too.' Dean's wing thumb pointed at him. 'Big talk for someone that was the army's bitch. At least I went down fighting. Did you? Did ya roll over and beg for treats? Do you like being their attack dog?' Dean taunted, hoping that Walker would act rashly, fight emotionally or, a slim hope that he'll see this from a different point of view.

'I _chose_ this because I knew that one day, I'd get out and be all powerful. Stronger then anyone. Able to kill all of the monsters of this world.'

'And people.'

'Those guys _deserved_ it.' Gordon snarled. His attitude changing slightly. 'Ever try them? Ever had a taste?' His body actually shivered before he could control himself again. 'It's amazing. Each one has it's own flavor.' His eyes flickered down to Dean's fist. Then to Dean's eyes. Reading the guilt plain as day. His face brightening in realization turned elation, 'You have! How does he taste? Is it all gun powder and righteousness? Or is it bitter? Sweet? Come on man you've got to tell me!' his body was all but vibrating, thick saliva dripping from his jaws. His tongue snaked out and cleaned it up. Savoring the blood on his muzzle. He hmm'ed in delight. 'That last one I had,' he smacked his lips. 'Exquisite.'

All the while, Dean was trying really _really_ hard to ignore the words, but his traitorous mouth did start to water. Remembering not just how Sam's body tasted, but Cas's. His mate might have driven him to cannibalism. But, could it even be considered that? He's no longer human, so it's OK. He shook his head. Forcing out the idea of just opening up his mouth and sucking on Cas like a candy. That taste, it is intoxicating. So strong, so unique. Desirable. Drenching his naked body in saliva and pulling him down deep. Bonding with him forever. Becoming one. Keeping him inside. Hoarding his essence.

Dean was thrown to the ground, a massive weight on his side, slashing at his scales but his wing was in the way, flexing the body back as he tried to right himself. The blow was too strong and he found fangs tugging on his fist, trying to get it open. His eyes flew wide open. He had gone straight for Sam. Thinking he was still in the fist. Dean bit down on the back of Walker's neck, hard. Walker yelped and pulled his head upwards, knocking Dean's mouth off with his horns. He jumped to the side as Dean righted himself. Standing on all fours and growling with all the threat of imminent death behind it. The military's attack dog threatened his brother. So he's going to die. Simple as that.

Dean rushed him, slamming his body into Gordon's and flipping the black dragon over top of him to free up his hind legs, kicking Gordon in his groin area while digging in his clawed hands into Walker's wing shoulders. Locking himself in place as he kicked away. He saw cats rabbit kick and thought, what the hell. His strong hind claws scraped the tender underbelly and felt blood between his toes, rapidly kicking harder. Gordon was wailing and flailing, trying to get his feet and legs together but Dean's were in the way. Finally he managed to wiggle out from Dean's hold and limped a short distance away. Embarrassment and fury mixing in the air.

'Gonna act like a dog, get neutered.' Dean quipped, trying to think of something more clever. He saw Walker's eyes dart down to his empty hand and the penny dropped. 'Fuck.' he muttered as Walker immediately went looking for Sam. He knew the strategy well, other monsters have used it before. Catch one Winchester to disable the other. Walker knew Dean wouldn't make a move on him if Sam's life was at stake.

He wouldn't give him the chance.

Dean roared at him and went medieval on him. Slashing, biting, wrestling, slamming. His massive weight was put into every blow. Something Walker wasn't anticipating. Dean figured out that even though the other Drauglin is much bigger, Walker never fought in that body before. Never struggled with anything or had a cause worth dying for. Never had to run for his life, never had to deal with injuries and keep on fighting. Sparing with machines and gigantic little brothers. Surviving two buildings burning down around him. Torture, mutilation, humiliation. Walker didn't have to worry about dying every five minutes. He never even had to fight with his own inner Drauglin, like Dane. When that scaly bastard and he fought over control of the body, it was entirely possible that Dean's mind would be lost. Now, he's a powerful ally. And every time they were at death's door, they _slammed_ it shut.

Dean couldn't stop a quick huffing laugh at how little Walker was prepared for this fight. All that bravado and muscle popping and the damned idiot didn't even know where his weak spots were. Dean folded up his wing tight and went back in, quickly slashing the inner thighs and watching the blood pour out before darting back again. His smaller size working for him in speed. Gordon got in a good hit or two, but it was obvious that the former monster Hunter was used to using his fists instead of claws so the blunt hits didn't do much damage to Dean's thick armor skin. It would smart, sure, but sore muscles are better then exposed ones. Which, is something he also had endured in the past when the soldiers skinned him alive. His hatred towards them doubling and nearly blinding him in this current fight. He had to hold back some fight for the base.

Dean let the other Drauglin retreat, a whine escaping his opponent against his wishes. Dean started pacing. Looking around for Sam who had hopefully headed for the hills if he's smart. But Dean knew better. Sam was intelligent as hell but he was an idiot when it came to Dean being in trouble sometimes. All that talk with Cas about compartmentalizing emotions during a fight would fall away if Sam thought that Dean would actually die. So Dean made up his mind to not show any weakness at all. Keeping Sam from exposing his little ass. Dean heard some movement off to his left, side fan flicking out to pinpoint it before going back to its original position before Walker looked back up.

Gordon knew he was beat. That damned freckled bastard was just too fast. Too ruthless. Ignoring all of the rules of combat and fighting below the belt. In this case it would be literally but there were no belts. Anything goes. A predatory glint sparked in his eyes. What's he got to lose? He knew the military would be here soon with reinforcements. They'd take him down without even needing to get close. Send a missile into his body from the base. Tracking that fucking chip that he didn't get far enough away from. Fuck. A mistake he made and didn't want to live with. However temporary that may be.

'So is this the way it's going to be? You kill me, or I kill you.' he backed up just a little to angle his front towards Dean again.

Dean nearly chocked a little on his words. 'I wouldn't have to kill you if you'd left those humans alone. That alone made you a monster.' Dean's wing opened up and waved in Walker's direction. 'This is just packaging you Moron.' and sat down to rest for a second. Adrenaline threatening to crash. His muscles jumped to keep himself going. Can't rest yet. 'You wanna know the saddest thing is? We could have saved you.' He let his words sink in. 'We could have given you your old life back.' And shook his head. Stupid. _Stupid_. He realized Dane just now opened up his eyes again, watching the war of words. Spurred to act with the shift in emotion. Dean could feel his stress bleeding out and into himself.

Gordon laughed. Just _laughed_ at him. 'You think this was against my will?!' he had to steady himself while laughing. 'You fool, I _chose_ this!'

'You really want to stay like this? Hunted? A monster?' he could feel Dane inside his head, squirming uneasily at the words. He nudged his side mentally, telling Dane, 'You are anything but a monster, Dane.' and felt a soft nudge back.

'I never said I wanted to _stay_ like this...' Walker faltered. Not even sure where he was going with that. What did he want? To go back to being human again?

Dean could see the internal debate. Unsure how he wanted to proceed as well.

Walker sniffed, ticked off. 'Too late now.' and looked away. It would have been a perfect opportunity to go for his exposed neck but Dean was rooted to the spot. Trying desperately to tell if Walker is worth saving or not. He threatened Sam's life, but hell, even Dane did when he first met him and Cas in the woods. Dean would be pissed at the cause of all this trouble too. He knew that if he died, it would be justified with all of the shit that he's done in both of his lives. Gone down swinging sure, but it would probably be deserved. He could feel Dane want to argue about that and ignored him which just pissed of the Drauglin. 'I said I got this.' he told Dane a little curtly. Softening a little when he felt Dane's anger. 'I got it. He wont hurt anyone again. You don't need to see this.' He tried to shut Dane out but he couldn't do it all the way. Dane was being pushy now. 'Whatever.'

Sam opened fire.

Walker spun around and gawked at the small human perched precariously on a small rocky cliff no higher then his chest, unloading two black handguns into his neck at the same spot. It made the neck scale splinter and fall off and Sam quickly threw the spent guns aside and grabbed two more from his bag with the duct tape handles and silver bullets, going at it again. Sam wasn't one for battle cries but he did this time. Distracting the big bastard long enough for Dean to lunge.

Which Dean _would have done_ if he'd been privy to Sam's plan.

Walker's neck burned with the small bit of silver being lobbed into him from those handguns. He snarled at Sam who kept on shooting until those guns were emptied as well. A panicked look towards Dean who was gaping incredulously at his monumentally stupid/brave brother. His rifle was the only thing left and then his time was up. Everyone knew it. “Dean??” he pleaded. Options running out. He needed to help Dean out and this was the only way, being a diversion for as long as he could. He knew his chances of living through this last ditch effort were slim but he had to do _something_! What was wrong with Dean? Why wasn't he moving?

Walker acted first.

A huge clawed hand punched at the rocky hill Sam was perched on and he lost his footing, falling harshly to his side and rolling down the slope along with several other rocks. Walker chuckled at the small scale fall, making it look like Sam was just a rag doll. 'So eager to tenderize your own meat for me?' he licked his lips. Raising his hand again to smash down onto Sam's body as it rolled to a stop at his very feet.

Dean charged into his side again, horns out and skewering Walker's arm. He jerked his head up and pushed the larger Drauglin away from Sam's body. Sam struggled to get up and escape the pounding feet and claws. His munitions bag had slipped from his shoulder and pulverized under Dean's errant foot. He narrowly missed another stomp and scrambled away. All the while massive shadows and wind surrounded him. Growls and hisses. He could barely understand Dean anymore. Only picking up words that weren't said with strong emotions behind them. Problem was, everything was emotional right now. Mainly anger.

Dean roared in Walker's ear while their bodies writhed below, 'You leave my brother alone!'

Walker turned his head to face him, biting at Dean's nose to back up enough to spit out. 'You are my brother.' and smirked as the understanding clicked. 'This is some kind of sibling rivalry!' he cried out manically.

Dean goes off on him, 'We may have the same mother but we will _never be family_!' And protected Sam from another blow. Pushing the bastard away from the human who couldn't get away from their spinning battle. Half of the blows missing their mark. Dean was pissed and loosing. His grip weakening inside and out, Dane was listening to everything and struggling to come out. Dean couldn't risk that, Dane might choose a blood brother over the humans. He would protect Sammy and the others till his dying breath. 'They are the family I care about!'

Dane is torn. He senses the bond that they have with the near black dragon and knows that they do share the same mother, but this one is so much more violent and evil. The stench of dead humans coming from his breaths. It took some time to figure out what that odor was, and when he did he forcefully shoved the weakened Dean back and attacked Walker furiously. This Drauglin was a MONSTER. He shredded Walker's wing that was closest, crippling him from flying ever again, and jerked his own up and away from the retaliating attack. Ducking low and biting Walker's lower throat, not a good enough grip to sever the skin. Walker spun around, knocking his body into Dane's and jarring the mouth open again to let go. Both skid in the dirt and Dane saw Sam take some free shots towards Walker's face. He had an idea and before Walker even had a chance to get back up, Dane lunged forward and pushed down on the bigger dragon's back, slamming it into the ground again and gripping the horns in his teeth, chewing and jerking his head back and forth and in crazy half circles, making Walker too dizzy to tell which way was up. He then used up every bit of strength to slam the evil dragon's head down at Sam's feet, pinning it there and slashing clear through Walker's wings under his feet as Dane stood on him from overhead. Turning the wings into a bloody pulpy mess of bones, blood, and crushed scales.

Sam wasted no time at all in firing everything he had at Walker's eyes. The pinned head trying to wail and thrash but Dane arched his neck overhead to get the leverage needed to keep it down. Sam ran out of bullets too soon and Dane looked up for two seconds to get his attention before looking towards a rocky overhang for Sam to run to.

Walker twisted his head to the side and bit up at Dane's lower jaw, Dane lifted away, ripping out a couple of his jaw spikes from Walker's terrible grip. Dane leaped free and quickly circled back again as Walker got to his feet, wings stubs flapping uselessly for balance since they were barely hanging on.

Dane made it out of the encounter intact. Panting hard but still standing strong. His muscles quivered with fresh rage as Walker stumbled back a few steps. Penned in by larger trees and looking for an advantage. Even after all this, his opponent was better fit for fighting it seems. Walker spent nearly his whole dragon life in a cell that was much smaller then a prison cell. Hardly any chance to use his synthetically built muscles. No chance to practice running, flying, fighting. Muscles without training don't help shit. He was loosing to this smaller dragon.

Outrage at that confirmed thought nearly blinded him to fury again but he stilled his next attack. Assessing his own damaged body. He'd die if he continued right now. Loosing too much blood. He'd have to cauterize nearly half of his body the second he gets out of there. While Dean was still across the clearing, Gordon turned his head quickly and bit off the broken sections of his own destroyed wings. Only a half dozen feet to mark where they once were. He was grateful that the wings didn't gush blood right now, but that didn't seem to matter. He completely lost the ability to fly. He never really got the chance to _try_ and that felt like another crushing blow. He's sure he would have been great at it if he'd had the chance.

A low growl came from Walker's throat. 'If you leave me, I swear not to attack you or your family.' He took a few more pained breaths. 'You win. I just... I just want freedom.' His wing stubs gave up trying to fold properly and he let them sag to the sides, twitching and shuddering occasionally. He exhaled heavily. Looking utterly defeated. 'I can't stop you from killing me. I know you know that. I'm just coming to terms with it.'

Dane tried catching his breath. Seconds from collapsing himself, he held on because it seems as though his opponent thinks he's stronger then he is. Dean elbowed him to get his attention and they switched places effortlessly. Gordon didn't seem to be able to tell the difference anyway. He probably had no idea. 'You killed humans.' Dean stated simply. 'You tried to kill my brother.'

Walker shrugged weakly, 'I thought he was here to kill me.' he glared for a second, 'Was I wrong?' and sighed a little. 'The soldiers tortured me, you know. I just wanted out. That's all. I ate them in self defense.' He chuckled humorlessly, hey, it was worth a shot. 'I just want them to pay for what they did to me, _us_.' A tired clawed finger pointed back and forth of them.

Dean squinted at that. Both of them were perpendicular to the wind so neither could tell by scent what the others intentions were. He thought about how to use this to his advantage. If Walker truly did want revenge on the solders alone... 'Join us.'

That got Sam and Dane's attention, both gawking at him, he shrugged it off. They could use Walker as a diversion when they storm the base. Sam started inching towards his dropped bag of guns. Something might have survived the brief impact of Deans toes. Dean's tail felt him and laid in front of his little brother, blocking him on purpose. Dean made sure Walker wasn't going to move and turned his head down to Sam. 'Don't do it.' and then looked back to Walker. 'Join us and we can get rid of the soldiers and free our mother.' It burned coming out of his throat to say that. As if he could possibly be related to this fucking animal in front of him.

Walker sneered at that. 'If it's all the same to you, pass.' And straightened up a little. Still bleeding all over the ground. 'If you're going to kill me then do it. Or let me go.' He managed a shrug but winced at all of the pain that elicited from the recently removed spike and mangled wing stubs. He was absolutely covered in blood, no longer black but deep red. 'Of all the ways I thought I'd die, I really don't want to bleed out like a pathetic victim. I'll take care of my wounds and you can do yours.' He nodded in the direction of Dean's bleeding chin and several cuts on his side from the well placed kick. 'It looks to me like you are barely hanging on as well. What do you say we make a strategic retreat and meet again later. Hmm?' he said, starting to circle again almost lazily. The threat of continuing the fight was getting oppressing. 'Or, we could die right here, and your sad lonely mother will still be stuck in that pit.' Gordon paused and winked, the only muscle movement that didn't hurt. 'You're choice. Since, you've got more to loose then me.' And looked pointedly at Sam who was halfway behind Dean's left leg, practically hiding.

Sam whispered to Dean, “What's he saying?”

Dean adjusted his leg a little to very gently bump into Sam. He keeps forgetting that Sam can only understand him and none other. And even then, that's fading. Going by his brother ignoring the numerous orders to run. 'Fine. You leave us alone, and we will meet again later when we're both on equal ground. A fair fight.'

'Are you capable of that?' Walker raised an eyebrow.

Dean just growled low at that. 'Do you wanna finish this now? You wanted to leave. So leave.' Dean unfolded his wing to hide Sam from view again. 'Don't show your face again unless you want to die sooner.'

Walker smirked and nodded. 'See you around.' And turned around, slowly walking into the stream for a few hundred feet, washing away the blood that clouded the water. They could see him cauterize his wounds once he was a decent distance upstream. Lingering flames floating on top of the foaming water, being consumed by the river as it reacted with the water. More water in the area then accelerant so there was no risk of a forest fire. His painful grunts still heard but getting quieter the further he went.

Dean fell to the ground. Breathing heavily. Completely exhausted and still bleeding. 'Sammy. Sam you gotta help me.'

Now that Dean was calming down, his whimpers were understood easier, 'You gotta, gotta stop the bleeding. Like he did.' and looked towards where Walker retreated. 'Fire will stop it. I'm too, too too tired Sammy. Sam... tired.' panting and lightheaded. Darkness threatening to take him down.

Sam leapt into action, grabbing the munitions bag and emptying it on the ground. 'No Sammy. Gun powder would take too long, not enough, enough... need it.'

Sam shoved the things off to the side and held up the cloth bag. “I know jerk face, I was getting the bag, now open up.” While patting the side of Dean's mouth. Dean caught on soon enough and grabbed the bag, filling it with his liquid spray and opening his mouth for Sam to pull out again. It dribbled everywhere and Sam had to be sure not to get any on himself. He jumped up onto Dean's unfolded wing and poured it on every wound. Dean resisted wincing at the larger ones and let Sam work, wiggling a limb and splaying it out for Sam's inspection. Seeing if it needed sealing or if it just hurt because it was an impact not cut.

Sam laid the bag on Dean's largest wound and ran to grab a long branch, his own injuries screaming at him to take a break too, but this is one thing he can do for his big brother who took blow after blow for him. He ran back to Dean and nudged the end of the stick into his brother's mouth who licked at it, spitting out the bark that fell off. “Sorry.” Sam apologized and pulled out his lighter, igniting the branch and used that to ignite the other wounds. Dean failed to keep still and Sam had to jump back several times or else be flattened by an errant thrash. He jabbed the stick in closer to the underside wounds and soon Dean was spotted with fire. Roaring to the sky in pain.

“OK! Hey, hey hey, you're good! It's done! Hey, hey, you're done!” Sam called up and Dean instantly threw himself to the ground and rolled in the dirt. Smothering the dying flames. Dirt and debris was kicked up everywhere and settled on every surface. Dean finally stopped and laid on his side. Gritting his fangs through the residual pain. Whimpering when that didn't work. Above everything else, panting and squeezing his teary eyes firmly shut. Hating to be seen like this in front of his lil bro. He's their only shot at getting Cricket out.

Sam came back to his head, gasping at the sight of despair in that face. The brutal torture he's re-living from every one of the torments. The starvation, the skinning, the electric shock, the mutilation, the imprisonment, dehumanization. All of it. This being just one more in a long line of horrendous events. He could see his brother doubt himself and doesn't blame him one iota. But there's still hope. He has to show Dean that it's gonna be alright.

He strode up to the front of Dean's whimpering face, hands on the bridge of his nose at the front. Deep inhales and sounds stopped when the Drauglin switched from breathing out of his mouth to using just nostrils to keep Sam from seeing teeth and hearing anymore of his complaints. Hot air rushed past Sam's legs, back and forth that would knock him over if he stood in front. His body fit in the space between the blasts and he started rubbing his hands along the front of Dean's nose between his nostrils, the soothing motion to calm his racing heart. He had no idea what else he _could_ do. Dean was in pain and nearly died. He kept on rubbing furiously at the nose, letting up when he thought he was hurting more then helping. Dean whined a little petulantly when the hands receded completely.

'Don't stop?...sss kinda nice... thanks.' Dean's rumbling purr was gravel ground rough but the sentiment was still loud and clear.

It only figured with a head that big that Sam would have to give his all for Dean to just barely feel the soothing rub. A few minutes passed and the breaths calmed. Sam turned around and leaned his back against the front of the nose below his raised nostrils and above the upper lip, and did some squats, using the flat of his back next when his hands were chaffing from the scales.

'Are you wiping your butt on my face?' Dean huffed a tired laugh and Sam smacked a nostril.

“Jerk.” he muttered and chanced a grin. He must be feeling a little better to crack a joke like that.

'Bitch.' Dean chirped back and sighed. 'Break time's over.' He stilled when he heard Sam sniffle. '… Sammy?'

Sam kept on facing the other direction, feeling the breaths on his legs and the vibrations of Dean's worried voice. He whispered, “You Jerk.”

'Heh, yes, we established that, Bitch.'

“You nearly _**died**_. Friggin _Jerk_.” Sam sniffed again, wiping off his face and sighing. “Jus... just _don't,_ OK?”

Dean exhaled, 'OK, I wont.'

Sam wiped off his cheeks again, then dusted off his shirts, hands going back up and holding his unshaven face in the palms to compose himself. “Jerk.” his voice was muffled.

'Well, now you're just name calling, Rapunzel.' and nudged Sam's legs to make them buck outward. In an voice reserved for engaging kids on getting ice cream or going to the park, Dean asked, 'Now, do you wanna kill some bad men?'

Sam said weakly, smiling a little, “Yeah. Yeah I'd like that.”

'Well OK, let's go get you some bad guys to kill. Huh? I just know that'll make you feel better. Come on, up we go.' he trilled, mustering up some excitement and encouragement.

Dane was quietly observing. His emotions all over the place but let Dean have his time out with his brother. His own Drauglin brother turned out to be a murderous dick. How did Dean get to be so lucky? He knew that the two of them weren't serious about killing humans, that it was a joke, but still. What would they do if cornered by the soldiers? Act like Walker did? Eat them in 'self defense'? Was it really self defense? Does it have to be? And then he was a little worried about himself because now he's sure as hell wondering what human flesh would taste like. If it really was that delicious.

When Dean looked inwardly, Dane shook his head and said it was nothing.

Dane looked up at the outside world through their link. 'It's nothing, Dean.' he repeated to himself, 'Nothing.'

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we are coming up fast on the end of this Fic! Only a few chapters left. I think 40 sounds like a good round number yes? Please comment and kudos if you like this fic and get me writing!


	36. Highway to the Danger Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Highway to hell with flames and shit.   
> (I suck at summaries lol)  
> ((I just want these to be posted before I slack off anymore then necessary))  
> (((I hope you like :) )))

Chapter 36

Highway to the Danger Zone

 

 

Dean laid there for as long as he could, knowing he would have to get up and have an even bigger battle with the damned military before the night's over. Everyone was counting on him but he just couldn't muster up the energy just yet. 

While motivating his little brother out of the thoughts of failure, he enthusiastically tried return to the task at hand. He had successfully gotten to his feet earlier, only to sway dangerously in Sam's direction. Clearly something was amiss. His body wasn't quite up to handling that level of mobility. Figuring that tidbit of info out by the way Sam started running for his life from the bulk of the Drauglin's body shadowing the human and a good chunk of land surrounding him. Dean regained his equilibrium before he flattened his tiny brother.

Sam calmed his racing heart after seeing all of that mass shift dangerously close and overhead. Dean nodded to himself and sat again, admittedly with some difficulty, seeking a part of his lower body that wasn't injured in some way. He hissed in pain at the charred wounds, willing the blood to continue staying inside. Everything hurt. His wings fell to his sides from the lack of shits given. When did he get so _big_? Even the wings were making depressions in the torn up earth. Sam stayed back a little ways out of the splat zone. Dean then laid on his uninjured side, energy already used up. 

Sam approached again with his hands tucking into his pockets. “Five more minutes isn't gonna hurt.” and shrugged like it was no big deal, like they weren't already pushing the schedule. He yawned for effect and settled again leaning up against Dean's arm, idly checking out the spot where that bastard Walker had chewed on Dean's hand. He saw the damage and scrapes. Knowing that if he had been in that fist, he would have died. Dean pulled it away from Sam's hands and curled it under himself.

'I'ss nothin' Sammy.' he mumbled tiredly. 'Jaw hurts the most.' and turned his head to show where the missing spikes had been. 'If I was feeling up to it, I bet I could have done what he did and just bit that one spike off myself. The one that has the tracking chip. I already feel like shit, what's one more wound?' and shrugged. 'Sides, not gonna have this body long.' and caught himself, frowning inward and outwardly. 'Sorry, Dane. I damaged the goods.'

Dean ducked back to let Dane have some time out. Dane turned his head and wings twitched, wanting to come to attention but too tired to do much other then whimper softly at all of the spots of warm pain. The fire effectively cauterizing nearly all of the wounds but also killing the nerve endings in those areas. An itching, tingling sensation making its way down his body, crashing and reversing at his extremities, toes, wing and regular fingers and tail, before heading back to his head. He felt nauseated, but overall better. The pain receptors were dying off in those areas that had been burned, making it so that new waves of impulses were signaling false information to his brain. Declaring that all is well. The pain receding from the wounds themselves but not the still living tissue surrounding them. Those registered like a sore bruises over strained muscles. That is far preferable and welcomed. And it was all thanks to the quick action of Sam and Dean. Stopping the blood flow before he passed out. Dane managed a slight, barely there grin, 'The pain's going away.' he said and looked to Sam. Sam who was no bigger then his finger, had saved his life. At great peril to his own while the immense body thrashed wildly. He'd been lost in unbearable pain, Dean taking the brunt of it and handling the body so Dane wouldn't have to feel it as much. He did feel it, Dean couldn't block it all, and what he felt was _horrible_ , he could only imagine what Dean felt.

The different strengths of humans. 

' _Thank you_.'

Sam's face flushed. Less then half an hour ago, he had set that body on fire and now he's being thanked for it. He knew it was necessary but being the cause of that writhing agony was too much. Muscling through the feelings and memories to deal with later was hardly working. He felt like one of those torturers, putting them in so much pain after the enemy left... But now he's being thanked by Dane who had been dragged into the battle in the first place. Shit, the charred black spots haven't even _stopped smoking yet_! His gaze went to the river, wondering if it would be best to insist he gets in there to soothe the literal burn marks. He could insist on it, but bossing around anyone right now felt wrong. Even if it would help, he can't demand they do anything at all after that near fight to the death.

They would have likely moved on if Sam wasn't at the fork. But he _was_ here, and Dean had to stop and save him. Sam'll let them lead from here on, walking alongside and keeping watch, while his brother just focus's on not falling over. Sam was distracted when Dane moved his hand a little and gently tapped Sam's stretched out leg. 

'This is not your fault.' He said firmly if a little tired. 'We would have run into my... that _thing_ sooner or later.' Dane looked like he had something disgusting in his mouth. Clenching his eyes closed and breathing out the stress, 'At least we wont have to worry about him at the base.' He mumbled, sleep pulling at his bones but he wanted to get this out there so Sam could understand. He curled his long black claw around the tiny leg to pull Sam's attention again. 'Just, just think about it. He's not at the base, just another thing we wont have to think about. Plan for.' He gathered up another breath, 'The others are fine. They only have humans to battle.' his little speech took a lot out of him and he rested his head on the ground again. Muffling a grunt at the sting from his bloody jaw. 'Not your fault, I'm grateful for your help.' and quirked a corner of his mouth in a grin before sighing and closing his eyes again. Dane then said, 'Your turn, Dean. I want to sleep.' And waited. A few seconds pass. 'Dean?'

Sam looked behind himself at the face, eyes still closed but now tight in concentration.

'Dean? You there?'

Sam sprung to his feet, hands on the long muzzle, halfway between trying to shake or coax. “Dean?”

Dane opened up his tired eyes to see the little human leaning over the bridge of his muzzle in his attempt to see both eyes at the same time. He could only imagine what he looks like to something so small. Every facial movement clear as day, nothing hidden. He tried for nonchalance to diffuse the tension he could feel rising in those hands. 'I guess he's sleeping... or something.'

“You don't know?!” Sam's mind raced. Fear spiking. The two were in perfect sync. There's no way Dane wouldn't know. They were able to swap places in mid flight, leap, and fight. Why weren't they able to do it when peacefully laying down?

'It's ok, Sam. Calm down.' Dane sighed. 'And don't say you are, I can tell, you know.' and sniffed the air. With the human standing right next to him, he got every trace of feeling. A full blown panic attack is coming. He slowly nosed Sam's side to back up a little. Very mindful that every move with the biped so close could mean injury if he wasn't paying attention. He was nearly too tired to differentiate a shove versus nudge. 

'Look, we just need another minute. You rest up too. Call the others and let them know what's going on. I'll be ready in a little bit.' Dane looked at Sam who was staring off into space for a second. No doubt trying to think of ways to bring his brother to the fore without hurting Dane in the process. Dane took no offense to it. He's wondering about Dean's lack of aware presence as well. Not as worried as Sam, since Dane could still feel that Dean-ish spark in there, it just wasn't lighting up for him when he called for it.

Sam nodded a little frantically, needing something to do before he freaks out again. Feeling like he's loosing his brother anyways. All this, all these things they overcame to get here, only to lose him now? Old fears rearing their ugly faces. He can't fall apart right now. Just can't. He took deep breaths and calmed down a little as he noticed that Dane really wasn't worried or stressed about it. They may not have started off on excellent terms, but Sam knew that Dane would be showing some sign of distress if Dean completely vanished. 

'It's fine, Sam.' Dane whispered, half asleep. 'He's still here.' and from one breath to the next, fell asleep. Face relaxing and breath's puffing up some loose dirt. 

Sam watched for another minute, making sure it was a peaceful rest before falling back into Hunter mode. He called Meg first and foremost. Thankful that he got her on the line to delay the plan by an hour. He checked his watch. They were supposed to be at the outer perimeter _right now_. She was standing at the controls and gaining enough courage to start when her cell rang. She viciously cursed him out for the interruption, but he quickly explained why. His eyes widened a little bit when he heard Meg trying not to openly cry on the phone. Jolting back to the fact that Meg always cared greatly for his brother. Back at Azazel's zoo, she was his only friend and ally. The person that kept him going during those cold cruel months. She even got him out of there, but she couldn't be blamed for what happened afterwards. She was simply one person and needed an army to get Dean out of there. Of course she'd be upset at hearing what happened to him. Sam dreaded how much more Castiel would react... 

He hastily said, “He's alive, just injured. We will still get there, it will just take a bit. But, good news, we wont have to worry about Walker anymore. Dean and Dane kicked his ass. If Walker's not dead of his wounds, he's laying in the woods somewhere, taking time to recover far away from the base. Either way, he didn't want to come with us, he just wanted out.” Sam collected himself and said, “The General probably already knows this, but wont tell anyone until later.” he pushed out the sick feeling in his stomach to say, “Gordon killed all of the solders that were out with him. He.. he ate them.”

The gasp from the other end was heartbreaking. He let the phone drop to his side for a second to compose himself as well. That could have been his fate. Easily. His traitorous eyes went to the slumbering Drauglin's mouth, the fangs glinting in the sun, flammable saliva dripping from them. Even the spray is unbreathable, choking, vile. What did those men go through before finally being swallowed? Memories of his time in Dean's mouth. Knowing for fact that he was helpless to stop the dragon from doing whatever the fuck it wants to do. And in walker's case, he did. There was blood all over his mouth, and a detail probably too small for Dean to have made out but chilled sam to his soul. A bloody hand print on the side of Walker's mouth. A last ditch effort to climb out before...

Sam held his free hand up to his mouth, willing the hint of vomit to go back down. Swallowing hard and wishing he was anywhere but here. Talking about anything but this. To anyone but her. She'd probably ran into those soldiers. Knew their names, their families. They might have even been friends.

“I'm sorry.” he choked out, “It was quick, _painless_.” he winced, knowing for a fact that was a blatant lie but there was no way in fucking hell he would tell her the details. That humans apparently taste amazing to dragons. That Dean and Dane were probably fighting their instincts all the time. It was easy to forget that. He never had the urge to eat intelligent life forms before, so in the back of his mind, no one would. Only monsters do that. And he just couldn't think of that Drauglin as a monster because it was _his Dean_.

However, it looks like some of the myths and legends is true. They just knew the good ones that had some self control. How short their story would be if that were otherwise. Sam and Bobby never would have made it out of Dean's nest. Cricket would have likely either eaten them, or turned them. Either way he would have gone down that throat towards the end of this life. He shivered.

“Be very, very careful around Cricket, Meg.” he warned. Practically hearing her nod on the other end before she said she would. 

Meg sniffed and wiped off her eyes and said, “She wouldn't do that. She loves people. Hell, at different times, she had five humans in her mouth and never hurt them, she just did it to turn them into her offspring.” Meg thought about it and added, “And she didn't have to change Walker. They forced him down her throat and she chose to turn him rather then digest him. She must have figured out that he wasn't normal food and did it. Ungh, I just had a thought. It was almost like rape. If you think about it, they forced her to make a baby against her will, then when she laid the egg, they took it from her. She didn't even get the chance to see him, raise him...”

“That's horrible.” Sam whispered. Mind racing to what could have happened if Walker was allowed to be raised the right way. If memories of his old life weren't pulled front and center by the military the second he was born again. They had minimal use for a wild monster, but a Hunter in those skins would be priceless. Did the military even give a shit that Cricket could have just digested him instead? Would it have been better? Those soldiers would still be alive right now. 

“None of them deserved what they got. This is just so messed up.” Some fabric shuffling, sounds as if she's hiding the phone from view. “She's safe. And worth saving.” She whispered, not wanting to be found in the closet next to the satellite control room. She's gonna have to find somewhere new to hide out for the next hour or so. Unable to go about her regular routine because she might end up half the base away from where she needs to be when the whole thing starts. She wished she could just hang with Cricket the whole time, calm her fears. She had to explain what she could so that the Drauglin mother was ready when the time came. It must be very difficult for the old girl to conceal her excitement after all these months without seeing the sun, or feeling nature. Cricket deserved freedom.

Sam was quick to defend his earlier statement, “Of course! Yeah, yeah, sure. We're still coming for you both. I just thought... that you should know.” he exhaled, “You should still be cautious around her.”

“I appreciate the concern, Sam.” Meg tried not to sound dismissive, holding in a breath to compose herself. Sam's only trying to help. “Let me know when to start.”

“Of course.” He said readily and then, “Don't worry about calling the others, I got it.”

They hung up after their, 'Good lucks,' and then Sam checked on the Drauglin again, still deep asleep. Sam hoped that Dane was able to see Dean in there, make sure he's alright. He pulled over the few weapons that survived the stomping and while reloading the pistols and spare clips he dropped, he called up Castiel and Balthazar next. Those two would be closest to the base after Meg. 

Cas was beside himself. Swerving off of the road and hyperventilating. Balthazar was able to grab the wheel and right the truck before it overturned in the steep ditch along the road. Castiel had enough sense to put the truck in park to free up his hands to wrestle the phone from his best friends hands. “What?!” he shouted into the phone. Worry and fear and dread all packed into that one word. 

Sam sighed and repeated himself, downplaying Dean's injuries a little. Focusing more on describing how admirably he fought against Walker and that they should keep an eye out for Walker down the road, but not worry about him returning to the base. Since it was plain as day that he was trying to escape from it. Sam didn't have to understand Walker's speech to figure that much out. As he talked, he watched the sleeping Drauglin and circled around the area. Mentally cataloging all that he'd need to do to hide Dean's tracks but giving up before he even started. The military knew that they were out here and at the moment they'd be their biggest enemies out here. There was no point hiding it. In fact, all of the blood spilled might make some of the remaining soldiers think twice about engaging them. If they ran into what's left of Walker, all the better. It would show that Dean's not to be messed with. He had half a mind to sic the military on walker, give them his last known coordinates or destination so they can end that bastard for good. Rally their forces against the injured Dragon. But, that might backfire on them, figuring that Dean would be injured as well and more of an immediate threat. Sam dismissed the idea before saying it. Instead talking about how much better Dean's doing now that he's resting. The wounds showing no sign of reopening. Dean looked like he'd need to finish shedding soon, that might clear up a lot of the surface marks. That one large scale was removed from his flank, and already it looked like the area around it was about to come loose on its own. Not yet. Dean needs all the bodily protection he can get.

Castiel's hands sweat and his jaw was slack as all of his attention was on Sam's words. Studying every one and the tone behind them. Interrupting rarely to get a clearer picture of the events. “But he's alright? He's alive?”

“Yeah, he's beat up, but he's still breathing. We're just gonna take a break here before going closer. I already called Meg up, she's put the thing on hold too. I know we've got to do this today. We don't have a choice.” He dropped the cell to his side again, thumping it against his leg. This was such a cluster fuck. He lifted it to his ear again, “Gordon's gone but he left his tracking chip in the spike he ripped from his own spine. I don't know how he's not paralyzed right now. But, the damned thing is too heavy for me to lift so it's still sitting nearby. Which means I gotta get Dean moving before the reinforcements come here. Even if I manage to get it into the river for the current to take it away, it would just end up at the base – right where we're going.” 

Sam heard Balthazar in the background and answered before Castiel relayed his question, “Dragon fire can't destroy it. They would have thought of that.”

Silence followed. Sam's mouth thinned. “Hey, hey look, lemme call up Bobby and Rufus and let them know what's going on. All we need is a break to let Dean rest. I'll deal with the soldiers if they come here.” He paused for a second but it seems as though either the connection was lost, or Cas was the one at a loss for words. “So I will call you when we're leaving. Good luck, guys. Bye.” and hung up. His free hand running down his face and idly scratching at his barely there beard. 

There wasn't anything he could do about the spike with the embedded tracking chip, so he just called up Bobby and Rufus. They were already done retrieving all the supplies they'd need for the all important spell to change both Dane and Cricket human again. The ritual for the back up plan needed some ultra fresh ingredients. But that was more of a weak alternative, not as guaranteed or morally right, and it also requiring a blood sacrifice. The third option was a merciful death with a spell that would render the dragon unconscious in a coma like state and it would die peacefully when it's heart just stops. A hex bag that was supersized for its larger victims. They made two of everything for Cricket and Dean/Dane. They'd give them the choice first unless the dragons didn't give them one, where everyone's lives were at stake instead of the two.

The fourth plan... that truly was a last ditch effort. Unpredictable in the outcome. Sam didn't even want to think about it. The first one had to work because frankly, the rest might be worse then what they have right now. 

There was a stirring of muscles that rustled the shrubs that the dragon had landed on. Sam spun around and went to the muzzle, gently checking on the breaths and with both hands, hoisted up one eyelid that weighed more then he was expecting. The pupil contracted at the light and it squeezed shut on his fingers, the face wincing at the feel of something stuck in his eye before Sam managed to pull his hands out again. 

“Sorry! Sorry about that. You ok?” Sam said, putting his hand along the eyebrow ridge instead and running it along. “Gotta let me know how you're doing.”

A low grumble was an answer and he forced a smile. “Come on, I thought you promised me we'd go after some bad guys.” The grumble got a little louder and the eye squinted open, darting over Sam's small form too close to focus. 

'Sure.... ok.' he heard him say tiredly. Next to him, the side fan ear shot forward and pat Sam's back. 'Back up a bit, ya face hugging zenomorph.'

The grin on Sam's face turned genuine. Dane wouldn't know that movie reference of Aliens. He draped himself over Dean's nose and hugged him hard. The eyes cracked open just enough to roll at his little brother's antics. The muzzle started to lift very slowly, giving Sam a moment where his feet were off the ground to give him a chance to choose to ride along on up, or get off now. He got off. No sense making Dean work hard to keep his head perfectly level and move at the same time. 

The distant sound of an engine was heard by both, Dean's fans spreading and triangulating the source. 'Helicopter.' he grumbled. 'Jus what we need.'

“Maybe it's looking for Gordon.” Sam hoped. He felt the puff of air from Dean's lips at how much their luck would have to change for that to happen. 

'Doesn't matter, I feel better now.' Dean announced and once Sam was a decent distance away, he lifted his head fully and straightened up his body. Checking over the healing injuries. No new blood seeped out. He looked like he got in a bar brawl, nothing too heavy to handle. 'I just need to wash this blood off. I'm just glad it's not all mine. That Gordon looked like one of them vampires from True Blood. Ya know, when they exploded after getting staked?' Dean hoisted himself into a stand, tottering to his side before a wing snapped out and righted himself, pushing against a couple of trees. 'The monsters in that show are terribly inaccurate, but still a good show.' Dean talked to distract himself just enough to forget about the lingering pain around his wounds. Sam joining in once he caught on the intent of the mindless prattle. 

Sam picked up all of the spikes that Walker had torn from Dean's jaw, they might come in handy later or make nice conversation pieces. In either case, he didn't want them to be left strewn about the clearing. He gathered them up into his munitions bag, idly inspecting the smallest one that was about the size of a football, to see how it's formed and studying it to figure out if they'd be able to remove the tracking chip in Dean's shoulder spine in a less drastic and painful way that Walker did. He'd have to ask Meg if Cricket had one as well. No doubt she did. Just one more thing to think about. Sam talked with Dean about if an EM pulse would have any effect on them, or if the one in Cricket's spine was partly made of radioactive isotopes that the military could detect with scanners. Or if his were both electrical and radioactive. It would have to be low level radiation because humans had to work with them in close proximity if all had gone to their original plans. “We're gonna need a chainsaw.” he frowned. Dean unconsciously twitched his shoulders. The sheered off spike was clear as day, large as an oval coffee table with tree like rings of growth that were pretty faint but there. The chip had to be only a foot or two further down. They need to get it out sometime before the spell or else it might interfere with it. Cricket would need some convincing to allow them to touch her there with machines. That's a conversation for later. Focus on here and now.

Sam walked in front of Dean towards the water since his eyesight was clearly anything but clear. His left one bloodshot and the right was swelling. Sam made sure to make a little bit of sound, scuffing his feet along the ground to lead him to water without being too obvious about it. He could tell Dean was relying on it by watching the fans twitch at every step he took. Now at the river's edge Dean had no problem walking in and submerging himself up to his spikes in the water. Letting it swell in the banks enough to finish the job and cover him head to toe. Head aimed upstream because he didn't want to see how dirty it was getting. Wings stretching to both sides and scooping water up over himself, wings needing to be stretched out one part at a time to get everything from between its stretchy webbing. Washing away the burnt scales that were just barely hanging on, and of course, the dried blood and charred bits. The dirt and feel of the fight. The water felt nice and cold and soothed his too hot muscles. Waking him up better then anything. 

Sam walked to the large boulder in the fork again for a partially unobstructed look around. The trees too tall to see past elsewhere. The helicopter sounded closer but also not. Sound echoing weirdly around the cliffs and hills. 

Dean drank his fill and shook again under the water, a new plume of filth coming out from under the scales each time. Once he was satisfied, and the sounds of machines were getting heard over the rushing water, Dean sighed again and stood back up from the water. He didn't even ask permission when he strode to the fork and grabbed Sam in his hand. Lifting him up to his shoulder. Sam had plenty of foot holds and tried very hard to avoid the number of wounds and scrapes along the hide. Settling down even as Dean started walking again. Sam got a text that said Bobby and Rufus were nearly at the end of the woods, a halfway point on the highway that separated the Winchester's from the base. The brothers saw the Impala on the side of the road closest to them, before crossing the bridge and pretending to look at the engine while they waited. Waving off the few people that stopped to help.

'This is your stop from the D train.' Dean announced and laid down while still in the river, extending a wing like a bridge to the land. 'I'll see you when I get there.'

It looked like Sam was about to protest when Dean used his other wing thumb to shove at Sam's body, making it slip off the other side. Sam cussed as he landed in the webbing of the extended wing between Dean's elbow and where it connected further down his body towards his hips. Sam regained his balance but couldn't really stand on the hammock like membrane of his wing. He resorted to half crouching half crawling to shore. Dean watched the whole trip carefully, and once Sam was kissing land, he lifted up the very end of the wing tip and ruffled Sam's hair before pulling away from the expected reprimanding punch. But really, Sam was impressed with how much dexterity and precision Dean regained to do that move without knocking Sam over. It was like petting a mouse with the end of a chopstick attached to the finger of an extended arm. Well over a hundred feet long.

Bobby and Rufus gave a quick wave to Dean who nodded back, submerging himself once again and slinking down the now much wider river. He practically disappeared under the churning surface, the only part visible to their trained eyes were the ends of his horns and nostrils and even then it could be mistaken for a log in the water. He seemed to be more fit for the fight ahead, so Sam trudged up the bridge over the river to meet up with the other Hunters. Making the call to Meg and then Cas to get started. The three of them stayed on the bridge just long enough to watch Dean's form slip under it and past. The view from overhead was staggering and unexpected. His body moved smoothly and his camouflage was perfect for the sand and rock covered bottom.

Dean couldn't really tell where he was without lifting his head every once in awhile to check, each time giving him mini panic attacks that he will draw too much attention but finding he was lagging behind. The tower for the base's communication transmissions still in the distance blinking away. He swam a little faster while trying to keep from being noticed. There were no trees around now, just short shrubs along the river where it was hard to mow the foliage back. The rest of the lands were left to short grasses. As he rounded a gradual curve, he saw a golf ball land in the water ahead. He rolled his eyes and spit the golf ball back up onto the shore to keep the golfers from searching too close. He lifted his head just enough to hear the ladies talk about how peculiar that ball bounce was but beyond that didn't question it and kept on with their game. Dean sighed with relief, blowing some bubbles in the act. 

Dean looked inwardly, Dane was awful quiet. 'How you doing?'

Dane lifted his head from his curled up cocoon and shrugged. Choosing to bear the marks of the battle but being only a dozen or so feet tall. He hunched inwardly again and exhaled into the ground. 

'Dane, I can practically feel your angst. Spill.' 

Dane uncurled a little and said, 'I'm just tired, OK? Leave me be.' Some more mental nudging had Dane growling. 'You can't make me talk if I don't want to! I'm not a _nestling_ , Dean!'

At that outburst and spike of pain through his head in the form of a brief migraine, Dean backed off and looked away. 'Sorry I asked.'

Dane snorted out and huffed angrily. 'Since when do you _ask_.' and sneered. 'You _demand_. Like it's your right to know. Who the hell said I needed you to look after me?'

Dean kept on making his way downstream. Nearing the tower. 'Sorry.' he mumbled. Not knowing what the hell that was all about but suspecting something Drauglin-ey and was silent for a little while. He kept on seeing flashes of Walker and his mother, overlapping. Dane must be worried about what they'll find when they get to her. Dean kept that thought to himself. It might not be it at all, just Dane thinking about what Dean must be thinking Dane's thinking about. His head hurt. Just keep swimming. Dory was awesome. Simple statements that mean more. Just keep swimming. Wonder if Aunt Ness speaks whale now... he'll have to ask. 

Dane rolled his eyes and huffed irritably again. Inane biped stuff. Dean was now thinking about colorful fish that talked. Nonsense. He could still feel Dean subconsciously trying to figure out how to make Dane happy again. He'd get ticked, but it's not like it was intended. Just a feeling more then anything. But the fact that he wouldn't drop it though...

The sound of distant helicopters in the air distracted Dean. He had no idea what set Dane off, maybe they weren't in tune as he thought. 'But..' Dean nearly winced at the abrupt ticked off scrape of claws in the mindscapes rocks. 'I do need to know... if, you want me to... ya know, keep control when we get there.'

'Whatever.' Dane exhaled sharply, and looked away. 

He must not have felt the need to elaborate. The awkward silence stretched for a few seconds. 'Ok... good. I mean. Ok.' Dean bit the inside of his lower lip. Wracking his brain for what to do now that his back-up is pissed at him. He looked up from the river bank. 'Shit.'

'What now?' Dane asked as if Dean was the cause of all his problems. Dean, being the mature adult he is, regally ignored it like a cat ignoring the person it's sitting on. For at least a second or two. On principal alone.

'We got company.' Dean said and heard the mechanical rumble of several heavy things rolling along the ground and coming up fast. 'They know where we are.' and hated that he had to ditch cover so soon. So close to the base he could see the tower clearly. Practically read the serial numbers on the large dish's. He jumped out of the river and shook himself off of the water, the whole time roaring at the oncoming front. Wings splayed out as wide as they could go and he was glad to see at least some of the trucks and vehicles slow and stop, drifting and sliding sideways with the armed soldiers on top holding on for dear life. 

Dean was hoping for a longer stunned silence then what he got when they opened fire on him. He pulled his wings in to reduce the target size and charged right at them. He leaped over 5 of the dozen trucks and armored SUV's and headed towards the highway. He slowed just enough for them to catch up as he aligned himself with the highway leading away from the base, civilians screeching off the road, several car accidents but no more then fender benders. Dean's heart lurched at the sight, he kept on running and soon a siren went off all along the road. This must be reserved for non-combat base employees because the second the siren started going off, all the cars pulled over to the median but no one got out. He could just barely see them hunching down in their cars. That worked out even better! 

He ran along the pavement, listening to all of the ones chasing him gain access to the highway with a little difficulty getting over the steep curbs and dropping down into the street. To Dean it was barely an inch of difference but to them it was at least a foot down from the ground to the street. Dean's heavy hands and feet dug into the thick concrete with every stomp and thrust down that propelled him forward. His weight alone cracking the road like egg shells as he went. New holes not quite large enough to pop their tires, but they'd have to repave the whole damn thing after today's stunt. 

He had an idea and started to drool and spit as he ran, letting off as much liquid from his mouth as possible in a nearly continuous line straight down the center of the split highway.

Dean barreled down the wide road, looking more like a narrow sidewalk to him. From the start he lowered his wings to each side and dragging his huge clawed wing thumbs into the cement. Angling them just right, digging in and curling the road to make a long line of churned up rocky rubble three feet high in most places. The street turned into a surfers ideal wave as he went. His right wing taking out the whole right lane of highway, the left wing arching over the line of regular cars and trucks to reach the oncoming part of the highway and churning and curling up the nearest fast lane on that side. All of the small cars were in his wings shadow at one point as it stretched over their heads, blocking out the sun for a split second before he hurled on by. He made it look like it was an unconscious act, drooping wings to drag on the ground due to being too tired to hold them up. Soon, the growing number of assault vehicles caught up to him as he really did struggle to move forward with the friction and resistance he's feeling through his wing thumbs. The cement started getting really heavy, too hard to force upright.

As he neared an overpass he saw a helicopter soar in from out of nowhere. Pausing his efforts he spun around and stomped hard on the ground, startling his pursuers to slam on the brakes or else hit him head on. They'd just bounce off of him or he'd easily smash them under a foot. Most backed up, while the soldiers on top resumed their attack, shooting everything at him at once. It felt like needles on his scales, sharp enough to punch through his outer layer but never went too deep. If he sheds, all those bullets would fall off. He was eternally grateful for the fact that he'd been too lazy to finish shedding earlier. Some of the soldiers concentrated their efforts on certain places and he roared at them. The helicopter now taking up arms. Equipped with guns bigger then what the trucks had. Dean spotted a missile or two. Fucking shit! They'll level the damned place if they use those!

'Oh that's it!' Dean hunched low and spread out his wings, flapping down _hard_ once then twice and got enough height to flap more frequently to accelerate into the air in a tight circle. He then wound around and above the helicopter. It was larger then most, sporting a hold that was about the size of a semi's cargo container. In that moment, he really felt like Godzilla or King Kong because he reached out and grabbed the underside of the chopper and turned it away on it's side for a second to keep the spinning blades away from his face. He slowed his wing beats and half landed on the highway again, both hands gripping the helicopter in a firm hold. He then went about angling the chopper towards the bridge slowly and making the blades connect with the sturdy structure and fly off one by one as they spun into the underside of the bridge. One of his wings snapped out to halt the projectiles from the convoy and people on the ground. He had also lifted his head over the bridge to protect his face but still felt the sting of cuts all over his chest from the disintegrating sharp blades. Thankful that once they lost their momentum, they didn't cut deeper then a few inches. He'd live. The sound of the machines whirred to a stop and the commotion died out below. His hands felt around the belly of the thing and backed up on his haunches to look at it again. The pilot and several others in uniform all sprinted from the craft now that it was just a few feet from the ground. 

Dean sighed in relief that this stunt didn't get anyone hurt. Besides himself. Shit. He looked at the underside of his wing and saw a few bits of propeller metal lodged in through his wing membrane. That sucks. He licked at the blades that skewered his wing before gingerly biting the metal and tugging them back out. Whimpering at the pain and then licking it further, turning around as he did so to keep an eye on his murderous audience.

Everyone was either in the trucks or behind them, getting ready for another shootout. Some running away, over the churned up street on both sides. He winced as he folded his wings up a little, just to make sure that he _could_ before facing the hundred or so humans more fully. He spread his wings out wide and roared at them. They didn't move. Clearly waiting for an order from a leader that was debating their options. He turned slightly and looked at the bridge, one clawed finger went to his mouth and he sucked on it for a second, letting his saliva coat it enough and wrote out two words on the side of the bridge, smirking at the convoy as he then sparked a flame in his mouth, igniting his finger and touched the letters. The flames leapt from one letter to the next, burning into the hard surface that wont ever be wholly washed away.

Never let it be said that he didn't have a flair for the dramatic when he want's to show off. Touched the flaming claw to his wing wounds as the soldiers were reading and re-reading that two worded question. Processing the request as he calmly set fire to his wings to cauterize the wounds. Suppressing the flinch of pain to look just that much more bad ass. 

'Well?' he chirped at them, looking at the words that were half melting the cement as they burned:

**GIVE UP?**

The humans all looked at the words, their opponent and at each other. Some asshole from the back shot at Dean. Then as if the dam broke, they all opened fire again. Dean sighed and erased the question mark's burning curl with his thumb, turning it into **GIVE UP.**

A demand now, that they didn't heed either. Dean frowned and lifted up a couple of trucks that were over the wet line that trailed down the street and set them aside like he was just arranging chess pieces for a game. The drivers and passengers screaming at the gigantic hand that curled around them, crunching the metal and lifting it off the ground and setting it down again off to the side. Convinced the clawed fingers were going to tighten just a fraction more, and crush their bodies completely into the vehicles. He had the strength to do so. They _had_ been warned. Now they were thanking God for being spared and after wrestling with the bent door frames, they exited and ran away without further preamble. Dean grinned after them. The smart ones. 

The arranging done, he looked down the long churned up street turned deep gutter. 

Dean made a show of shrugging helplessly and with his mouth still on fire, he let in more air to aid in the flames that rushed and swirled in his breaths like mini-tornadoes, and spit out a lougie onto the street. At once, the whole line of liquid accelerant from his throat, and spit ignited and the flames danced high and wide as they raced down the entire length of the highway he'd run down. Separating the soldiers from each other and disorientating them.

Dean had his wings still open, and admired his handiwork. The humans were all alive but trapped, they'd need to turn all the cars around and head back the way they came to get out of the cement trench he formed. So long as they didn't willfully get into the flames, they should be fine. He saved a car from exploding by moving it further to the side and another from being run into by the rash driving of one of the large trucks. He grabbed that truck and slowly turned it on it's side so the asshole driver wouldn't plow into anyone as he tried to escape. He did the same to the other large trucks, aiming this way and that and pinning them together away from the flames to make them useless to the people. A twenty car pileup with no casualties and minimal damage, considering. Most of the soldiers and non-combat workers were already running away in all directions which suited him just fine. It would take time to get organized again, and that's assuming they'd _want_ to return to that base. 

From the scent of things, they'd be having nightmares for years to come. He felt a little bad about that, but it was necessary. At least they were alive to have those nightmares. He could have easily killed everyone there. Ridiculously efficient and effortless if he just used his feet to stomp them into the ground as he walked. Not needing to waste his fire spray. But this was more effective to keep his own conscience clear. 

In this one move, he successfully gotten rid of nearly all of their vehicles and disbursed all of the field soldiers. He used a wing to cheekily pat himself on the back. Spying the tanks entering the opposite end of the street now, he licked his lips. This was too easy. He waited around for them to get good and close before taking flight over everyone's heads and landing at the start of his street bowl and churning that cement up the most. Nothing with wheels could get out but the people were alright. 

Several more helicopters were now heading towards him as he flew promptly towards the base. In the distance he could see the tower again, the power light no longer winking. Meg was damned good. All communication is shut off now. That also means that Cas and Balthazar are at the front gate. A plan to buzz the tower forming in his mind as he hummed the theme song to Top Gun.

 

“I understand why we had to take the truck, because the Impala is far too recognizable as the one we used in Dean's escape, but I am used to my own new truck. This is... rickety.” Castiel complained as he shifted gears again. Just for something to distract his nerves and anxiety from the meeting ahead. “Ok, got the script memorized?” Castiel's hands fidgeted on the steering wheel. Eyes looking back to the hiding place for his and Balthazar's guns more frequently. 

“I work better if I'm riffing. It'll be fine.” Balth assuaged his friend's nerves and pointed out the front gate ahead. “I'll start.”

Castiel bit his lip and pulled up to the first check point, eyes darting everywhere as two MP's came out with a German Shepherd to sniff out their truck. Two other guards coming to each cab window with flashlights in one hand and the other resting on their holstered guns. 

“Evening gentlemen!” Balth started.

A hand went up to silence him. The team of MP's checking out the truck in silence – dog barking at the hidden compartment and hand signals made between them. “What is your business at this facility?”

Balth plastered on his grin again, “We were the head scientists under Michael Swordsman and wish to speak to General Naom, please.”

The head guard motioned for them to hand over identification so they did. Taking it into the booth and talking on the phone to someone else. He came back with the wallets and handed them back. “What is the nature of the business you wish to discuss?”

Balthazar noting with a frown that the cash inside the wallets went missing. Wankers. He tired not to show he cares. “That's classified.” and folded his arms. The guard was thoroughly unimpressed. 

“State your business or turn around.” He said with a note of threat behind it. No love for Michael's group.

Castiel's grip was getting white on the steering wheel, “We have a gift for the General!”

Balth swooped in, “To be handed over _solely_ to the General. Not his Walmart greeter.”

The guard was about to say something when his fingers went to the black comm. in his ear, nodding to himself and frowning. “Yes, Sir.” he looked up and sneered. “Wait over there for further instructions.” And waved them off to be in the care of the MP's and the dog that barked viciously at them. More murmuring talks between the increasing number of men in suits and gear. All glaring hatefully at them. 

“Tough crowd.” Balthazar mumbled. He could feel Cas tensing up. "It's gonna be ok. It's gonna work.” he patted the large roundish dish in between them underneath the blanket. 

There were an increasing number of people gathering at the entrance to a rather large building that could have been mistaken for a regular factory. Then, both of them recognize the General with his entourage of 'yes men'. He was present when Michael had first bought Dean from him. He did not look happy. 

They approached the truck and the General waved for them to get out so they did and held their hands up to the soldiers with guns aimed at them. The General cleared his throat. “Make it quick.”

“General Naom. My name is Balthazar and I had worked under Michael and my esteemed colleague, Mr. Castiel Novak. We wish to express our deepest regret for the actions of our employer.”

The General cut in, “I know who you are. You stole my dragon. I want him back.”

“Quick and to the point! Yes, Sir. We had once accompanied said dragon into the wilds but that was against our will entirely. We only recently escaped the fiends responsible.” Balthazar looked to Castiel who nodded, looking like he wanted to throw up but keeping that stoic face in place. “We wish to align ourselves with your organization at this time due to the change in powers.”

The General scoffed, “That is because you have no powers now.” guessing what they were hinting at. 

Balth looked embarrassed, “Yes, well, bygones good Sir. We have been around the massive brute for months and feel that we would be invaluable to your information gathering.”

The General paced a little, eyeing them up and down. “New information? Such as?” 

“The physicality of Spike's current status.” Castiel finally spoke up. “His limitations and strengths, his habits and temperament.”

“And what about his location?”

They looked at each other then the imposing General again. “The last known whereabouts were miles from here, when we escaped, the Drauglin was heading towards the mountain ranges to the west.”

There was a lot of murmuring going on. Castiel must have slipped up somewhere, but couldn't figure out what he said was wrong. He felt Balthazar's hand in the small of his back, a solid anchor for him. 

“Draug-lin?” the word unfamiliar on the General's tongue.

They both cursed internally. Castiel spoke up first. “One of the many things we discovered about his specie in our studying of him while being held captive ourselves.” 

The General studied them a little further and seemed to like what he was hearing. A flick of his hand and the guns were lowered, they felt like they could breath again. “Excellent. You will go with my men to the debriefing room to gain all the information you have and then I will decide if I want to keep you.” he addressed Castiel.

“And me?” Balthazar raised his hand a little like a kid in school.

“You speak eloquently but you are no scientist. A conspiracy theorist alone. What do you have to offer?”

Balthazar's mouth dropped a little. He did his research. “A gift.” he said quickly, “If you allow me to aide Mr. Novak, I will give it to you. I was his chief adviser and, and and...”

“Biological chemist. He also cracked the secret behind D- Spike's mental shifts.”

An eyebrow raise to continue. 

“Spike is not just one entity in that body. We discovered no less then _three._ Each one completely separate from the other.” the trick to a good lie is to have part of it be the truth. This was the truth that they were pushing at the General to study and think about to convince him that everything is truth or at least, more factual then a bald faced lie.

The General went back to pacing slowly, hand on his face and looking at his men all waiting eagerly to agree with him. “Alright. You may come in. But hand over your gift first. I am curious.”

Balthazar practically jumped in excitement and went back to the truck, pulling out the large, slightly bowl shaped disk still completely wrapped in a blanket. “It would be best if this were uncovered away from prying eyes.” he winked and looked pointedly at the guards and soldiers that were all surrounding them in a loose crowd. “National Security and trade secrets and all that.”

The General looked around too, apparently surprised to see the gathering and barked out an order to disburse. Balthazar carried the blanket wrapped gift inside and saw Meg duck around a corner. Resisting the knee jerk reaction to wink or show any sign that he knew her as a friend. Castiel missed noticing her entirely and that was probably for the best. The formerly married couple needed their game faces on. 

They were ushered into a meeting room with General Naom and one other man, supposedly his second in command. Balth set the thing on the middle of the table. 

“Just you wait and see this beauty!”

The General poked at it, it seemed lightweight, the x-ray wands didn't catch anything, and the bomb sniffing dogs barely batted an eye. He gingerly lifted up one corner of the blanket and his eyes gleamed a little. Uncovering it the rest of the way and running his finger on the top. Feeling the smooth surface that was interspersed with minor ridges and bumps. Soft as silk, but stronger then any known object for resisting intense forces per square inch. The size of it pointed to the fact that when it was shed, their quarry had grown in size. Freckles dotted the entire surface, some stronger in color, some blotched into the tan and brown camouflage. 

“How big is my pet now?” the General's eyes practically twinkled.

Castiel's teeth ground a little at that so Balthazar answered. “50 feet the last we've seen.”

The General whistled. Impressed. “Not as big as my dog, but still...” He felt along the edges and lifted it up, spun it around and looked at the underside with some concentration. “What is this?” he asked and the other man in the room came closer, frowning at the marks made on the underside. Cas and Balthazar's breaths hitched at the same time.

“That? That was there when he shed it. Craziest thing right? We suspect that there is a deeper meaning behind it. Lending credence to one of the lore's we encountered. The mysteries we have yet to solve, but _will_. You can feel how the lines are deep into the scales underside, they almost seemed chiseled into it.” Castiel motioned for both men to touch it and the instant they did, they could not move. 

“Ah, see, the reason why it feels chiseled is because it was, I did it.” Balthazar smirked. The General looked absolutely livid but frozen stiff. “Powerful thing those stay-put spells are! Change one of the sigils and it can change it's intensity. Going from simply being stuck to it like glue, to everything staying put, including your mouths.” His hand came up like he was going to console a small child. “But don't worry! We didn't make it all powerful to still your internal organs, and your ability to breath shallowly. Just the parts that touch the air wont be able to move much at all. Oh! Allow me.” He said, and using the eraser end of a long pencil, closed the eyelids of both men, explaining. “So your eyes don't dry out before one of the Hunter community comes to free your dumb asses from it.”

“You should've shown Hunters some respect. If you and Michael had, you might have had a chance... now? Every person that touches you two will get stuck as well. And none of them will be able to warn the next.”

Balthazar's eyes twinkled, “The human centipede!” and laughed as they inched their way past the two living statues so they didn't touch them as they left. Locking and closing the door after themselves. They actually had a minute or two since it didn't take nearly as long to fool the General as they thought. They immediately went in search of the dragon herb for Balth and after that, the power switch for the tower. 

Meg was already in the monitoring room and just waiting for them to show to kill the power and flip several other switches to hide that fact from the tech department. The base would be basically dead in the water.

Balthazar practically crowed with delight when he found the Dragon herb, labeled as Picececolus Drationaglie. It wasn't just a pound or two. It was nearly _three hundred pounds_. Clearly the military had better sources and means for collecting the herbs for cultivation. Balth quickly found a hand trolley to load it all up with Cas's help. Castiel reasoning being that the less the military has for disabling their dragons, the better. Giving Balthazar a nearly unlimited supply of a very potent drug was not on the top of his list but Balth's, who, for lack of a better term, was shitting kittens for how happy he was. It took all the brow beating and stern looks Castiel could muster to keep Balth from 'double checking' to see if it was the right plant, lighter already fiddling in his fingers. 

“You're no fun.” Balthazar pouted but still continued to wrap it up in several layers of military camouflaged tarp. Securing it for the trip after that in clear Saran-wrap to keep the scent muted from their dragons. No need to make them think it will be used against them. Dean would trust them, but Cricket might not. They would have to wait to load it onto their truck since it was still in the temporary holding lot for visitors of the base. They found the nearest door and stored it with a few empty boxes thrown on top to help hide its shape and true contents. They had to run to make it to Meg in time. The sheer volume of dragon herb took time from their schedule and they managed to successfully dodge the few befuddled scientists on their way down the halls. Being in a secured facility was a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that if you ever managed to get in, people already there would assume that you belonged there so they would ignore their presence. But the curse part of it, being the getting in and out with questionable goods. Those got attention. 

Thankfully, the two of them could put out the impression of being important people because they were in their own social and professional circles. Several soldiers actually bowed out of their way as they raced passed, Balth saluting along the way. Unfamiliar with the customs of showing respect in the military branches, he just saluted everybody.

Meg ran into them and quickly ushered them into the surveillance room where two women were unconscious on the floor. “They're fine, it was just some stuff in their pastries, they'll wake up later.”

Castiel frowned deeply, remembering that drugging people wasn't out of the question for his ex-wife. She did it to him as she moved her stuff out of their house. He was a little consoled in the fact that he didn't wake up with any side effects so he knew that these two ladies would be alright when they woke up in about 10 hours. He wondered how many others she drugged today with her delectable snacks. Working for the mess hall has its advantages. 

Meg worked uneasily around the two of them, the history of their relationship and how it ended coming back to her now that they're once again in the same room. She still managed to instruct them on what to do to get the old footage and recordings to start once she turns off the live feeds. There was more then one camera at the base. It took all three of them several minutes to flip switches on every one of the cameras and sensors. They checked the readouts and grinned. They did it. No one at the main comm's noticed the glitch in feed. With that done, they made their way to the tower and it was a simple matter of cutting the power to it. A blinking light at the top stopped, the tower dead to the world. No one noticed besides them, Sam, Bobby and Rufus, and several miles away but soaring fast, Dean.

“Ok, Clarence.” she grinned up at him, walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek. “See you on the other side.” and smacked Balthazar's ass as she turned heel and strode back to Cricket's cell. Her raised heels clacking on the tile the whole way down in her own march. 

Castiel's fingers grazed by the place where his ex-wife's lips pressed, tingling at the sensation. His mind swirling at what all that peck on the cheek meant as he watched her go down the long hallway without looking back. She turned a corner and kept on going. A couple of people had to swerve around the stunned man or run into him.

Balthazar frowned a little, knowing that his friend was pondering things that should have been laid to rest months ago. “Cassie? Let's go. Dean will be coming here soon and this place will be locked down tight. We need to get out before we are stuck here.” He tugged on Cassie's sleeve. A moment to see the pain behind those blue eyes. “It was the cheek, Cassie. Not lips.” he said sternly, helping break him out of the trance. 

Castiel nodded absently, hand falling from his cheek and seeing Balthazar again before eyes dropping to his hands. “Yes... yes. It's nothing.” and shook his head once before straightening his posture and heading towards the exit where they left the herb bundle. “This way.” 

The bundle was untouched and they hauled it out and off to the side, mindful of just the human guards and not camera's since all of the cameras were showing events from two days ago. Balthazar got his phone out and strode confidently up to the truck, waving dismissively at the bored guard there as he spoke loudly into the phone. “Yes! The General was pleased and couldn't wait to get started. He told us to head out immediately.” Pausing for effect as if someone was talking on the other end. “Yes, yes. We are leaving now. General's orders. Yes. See you there!” and hung up the phone as he wrestled for the right key to the truck. “Thank you, Gentleman.” he grinned and pulled the truck up to Castiel straight away as if he had been ordered to. Castiel didn't question it out loud, just helped him haul up the bundle and secure it in the back, even borrowing some tie down straps from the guards to make sure it didn't shift in transit. 

Balthazar 'explained' to Castiel loud enough for the guard to hear if he was paying any attention at all, “The General said to go incognito to the place. He said we could use our truck since it's not registered with any military tags or ID's. This is just a milk run.”

“Ah, I see. Smart.” Castiel got behind the wheel and was very impressed with how well the act was being heard and ignored. Perfect. They made it all the way down the winding road to the final gate when they were stopped again. The guard that was there before was still on shift and sneering at the two of them. 

He looked at them, then the bundle in the back. “What's in the back?”

Castiel could see that Balthazar was just about to lie through his teeth so he beat him to answering. “Picececolus Drationaglie.” 

Balth's eyes went wide. Castiel held his hand on the seat out of view and squeezed it.

“The General gave it to us to take to the other base.”

A raised eyebrow, Balthazar shoved Castiel's side, hissing quietly, “Top secret!” And then addressed the guard. “There is no other base. We are taking it away to dispose of safely. There is an expiration date on the herb that will render it inert and useless to use against the dragons, but harmful for humans. It is part of the Passiflora Caerulea or the Blue Passion flower which contains cyanogenc glycoside which breaks down into cyanide. If you touch this stuff in just two days, you'll die. Your team is lucky that it hasn't expired yet. The Picececolus Drationaglie is the most dangerous plant in the whole northern hemisphere. That's why it was nearly eradicated back in the 1700's in England and never cultivated in the America's. Touching it, breathing in the particles from dried broken stems or leaves causes copious saliva, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, anorexia, dyspepsia and seizures, before you die a day later.” Balthazar shrugged. “Your scientists wouldn't know what hit them. Thankfully, it was kept in storage and out of the sunlight, but it will turn deadly. So. May we please help you rid the base of this heinous herb? Pretty please?” Balthazar said as sarcastically as possible. “Or, if you're not satisfied with us removing it, you could volunteer your services. Just make sure you do it quick, the internal temperature was already rising due to its decomposition. It needs to be burned far away from civilization or else the smoke could cause hallucinations and mass panic. But you already knew that.”

The guard actually started looking a little worried. 

Balthazar exhaled moodily. “Mr. Novak, could you kindly call the General back and tell him that his underling wants everyone in the base to die a horrible death instead of letting us _DO OUR JOB_.” he shouted out of the window at the guard who jolted to the sudden rise in voice. He composed himself and eyed the two of them again. Hesitating and holding a hand up when Castiel raised his phone to his ear. 

“Move along.” he said and waved for the other guards to open the gate. 

“Much obliged.” Balthazar practically spat out and faced forward again. Squeezing Castiel's hand below the others eye line. One they were halfway past the double gate, a siren went off. Every person went on high alert. “Shit.” he hissed, looking to Castiel to gun it but several metal posts were rising from the ground, triggered by the siren. They were stuck there. The guards held up their guns at the two in the truck and listened for orders.

“Should we run for it?” Castiel asked under his breath, Balth frowned.

A shadow covered both of them as the wind kicked up into a frenzy. A humming in the wind that sounded faintly familiar and Castiel squinted through the windshield when he heard words in it a moment later.

'Out along the edges, always where I burn to be, the further on the edge, the hotter the intensity.' A shadowy shape hiding among the clouds that hugged the smokestacks moved so quickly that they weren't sure what they saw. 'Highway to the danger zone, gonna take you right into the danger zone - ' 

The wind swirled and whipped around the truck, clouds parting as a massive shape dropped from the sky right over the truck, the humans fled in terror while Castiel and Balthazar ducked down in their seats. The ground quaked all around them from the heavy thuds. Then, more thuds accompanied a heat that came from above them. A roar and Castiel jerked himself upright in time to see a huge foreleg swing around to his side of the truck. Then the whole truck lurched to the right and Balthazar shot up in his seat, going for the door handle before being stilled by Castiel's hands. Balthazar's side lurched over next, grinding metal under their feet and the rear of the truck was crunched down, the front lifting and tottering. 

'Shitdammit!' the voice cussed and righted the truck again. The passengers thrown side to side, holding on to anything they could. Clawed hands and feet gripped the truck around corners and it was lifted into the air by wings that eclipsed the sun. Balth buckled up as fast as his fumbling fingers could move. The entire truck rising and falling with each wing beat as the ground fell away, and the horizon rocked wildly before leveling out a fraction. Cas hung out the window to look up easier. From his angle he could only make out the chest scales and sometimes the head that bobbed in the air to gain leverage. Soon they were smoothing out the flight, soaring gracefully in the air, up and away. Bullets lodging into the underside of the truck as it was carried off to safety. 

Cas and even Balth could hear the jovial tone as their rescuer continued his song, 'Heading into twilight, spreading out my wings tonight,' a heavy wing beat to lift up the truck a foot higher for a few seconds. The grip shifted and the claws dug in securely. The truck might not run right after this. Dean didn't seem to care so long as his people were safe. 'I've got you jumping off the track and shoving into overdrive!'

Balthazar finally looked around now that the ride felt more like a plane then roller coaster going off its tracks. “I know this song...” 

Dean grinned wider, his singing is way better then any in-flight entertainment. A clawed finger tapped along with the beat under Balthazar's feet as he sang loudly, “Highway to the danger zone!” Swooping a little closer to the tree tops to give them a view that would rival any IMAX movie. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments = love! 
> 
> The lyrics for this song were just too spot on not to use it.  
>  I'm pretty sure the next four chapter titles will be recognizable for any Super fan :)  
> The next chapter is already half written so it will also come out within the month. hopefully.


	37. Carry On, My Wayward Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning, Major Character Death
> 
>  
> 
> The war on the military does not go to plan. The three helicopters go after Dean and don't give a shit that he's carrying precious cargo. Cricket seeks revenge on Sam the second she sees him. Hold on to your hats.

Chapter 37

Carry On, My Wayward Son

 

 

 

Dean stopped humming his song when the helicopters came into view again. 'Shit, you guys are gonna have to hold on.' and gripped the truck with just his hands on either side to be able to fly easier. Pulling it closer to his chest to reduce the wind drag it's causing. He could hear the pings of bullets hitting the truck and actually felt a few slip through the bed of the truck and hit his belly. Realizing that the truck is nowhere near as bullet proof as his skin. His fingers splayed along the bottom of the truck's cab where Cas and Balth are, thumbs hooking straight into the hood and just behind the cab to help block the windows and get a firm grip on it. There was some weird box like thing in the rear of the truck he'll have to ask about later. Or sooner. He just now hears a missile flying by his body, narrowly avoiding him and speeding away, the plume of jet fuel trailing after it as its turning back around and wavering in the air. Seeking out and locking into the heat signatures from the truck and its human occupants. Since the Drauglin's cold blooded, that's the only thing it could be. Lucky to be him, not so much for the two in the hot truck.

'Shit! Hold on!' he said and dove down, followed quickly by the heat seeking missile. Flying hard and fast towards the earth. Vertigo threatening to rip apart his sanity. He pulled up at the last second and the missile landed into the ground, exploding on impact. He could hear the shouts of panic in the humans on the ground and the shifting inside the crumpling truck. It feels like the damned truck is made of aluminum foil skin with how easy he's bending the metal on accident.

He launched himself back into the air, hearing yet another missile launch. He growled and banked left, trying to get some speed but the truck was actually weighing him down just enough to throw off balance. He turned around in a wide swoop, headed back towards the three pursuing helicopters and pulled in his wings between the two of them that hadn't fired off a missile yet, he saw the lone pilot jump for his life as the hurtling missile struck that one he was closest to while the missile was trying to veer past and continue its pursuit. Dean turned again and was glad that the pilot had a parachute but that incident pissed off the two remaining ones. He quickly searched for a place to put the truck down but knew that they'd be a target just as much as he is. And not only that, he accidentally made the truck undriveable, they'd be sitting ducks for one of the two remaining missiles. More gunshots from above and below. Pelting his skin, a few making it to flesh and he winced. The hot truck is definitely not helping.

'Ok, everybody out.' he ordered and gently turned the truck onto its driver's side, his left hand opening up enough to fit both humans in it. If anything, they clung tighter to the truck so they wouldn't fall out. He sighed and righted the truck again with his left hand, gripping with both because he had to spin in a tight circle downwards to distract his constant pursuers. He leveled out and it would take the choppers a hot minute to get back into the chase, swirling around in the air currents he shoved at them. His right hand disappeared from the truck and he signed the word instead of saying it. Apparently he couldn't be understood by Sam or Cas when he's stressed which makes this fuckin' _great!_ Just perfect. His fingers managed two letters before gripping the truck again and repeating the drastic tilt. Like trying to coax out coins from a piggy bank.

Cas held onto the wheel tightly, watching the clawed fingers the width of a phone booth form the word, 'in' before the metal crunched again on Balthazar's side, a firm one handed grip to keep the truck from falling. Dean's right hand couldn't help but crunch down the metal around Balthazar's seat to practically nothing, he had to unbuckle fast and slid into Castiel's side or risk being pinned down by the truck's frame. The huge left hand on his driver's side opened up as invitation. Cas soon realized that Dean was going to get rid of the truck and needed them to stay with him in his hand. He struggled with the bent metal of the door before quickly giving up and exiting the window.

“Balth! Get out now!” he waved his open hand for his friend's attention who followed suit after a second of heart stopping terror at seeing yet another missile being launched. He gripped Castiel's hand who helped pull him out through the thankfully wide open window. Both landed in the fleshy grip of Dean's immense hand. Tumbling together in the confines of his fingers, Dean tried to hold them steady. But also holding the truck with just his other hand, while dodging away from bullets, missiles and helicopters. Forget about his fear of heights, this was far scarier. Dean breathed through it all, focusing first and foremost on his Mate and friend. 'Hold them, don't crush.'

Clawed fingers fumbling to angle them both in a better way to form a tight secure and above all, bullet proof fist. They felt like scared mice tickling his hand with grasping fingers. Cas pulled Balth towards himself, Balth's back to his chest and they curled inward together. Dean's fist closing around them just as several impacts hit the outsides. Muffled thumps along the scales. A hiss of pain from somewhere outside of the fist. Castiel couldn't help but see all the damage to Dean's skin up close and personal. His heart hurt for his Mate. Trying so hard to protect everyone. Getting so beat up in the process but still fighting on. His small hand grazing a clear space of skin on Dean's ring finger. Dean gripped tighter for a second or two, just a few inches for them but a twitch for Dean. Proving he felt that movement, as small as it was.

They heard the truck in Dean's other hand crunch a little and Cas just barely made out Dean saying, 'I sure hope this package isn't anything we need.' Before using the truck as a club and beating the missile out of its course. It spiraled on downward and blew up in the woods. Dean's flying was disrupted by the bash and he pulled his left fist closer to his chest to better stabilize the humans from all of the rocking movements. 'Oh God, don't look down.' Dean panted. 'Stop looking down, _Idiot_.' the chastising growl vibrated the chest next to the fist.

The truck was tossed into the air for a second and hauled into a better position. Balling up the cab like a baseball now instead using the truck as the bat. Dean upended the truck and let the large box package in the rear come loose from it's tow-ropes. It slid out of the hold and fell towards the earth just as Dean launched himself into the sky again. Flapping hard to fly nearly straight up. He kept on going. Muscles straining against gravity. The clouds feeling damp on the human's skin as they risked a peek through the tiny crack in the fingers at their surroundings. The air was actually thinning out. He was nowhere near space, but all the same, Dean panting hard and fast. Hyperventilating. As far up as a mountain. The landscaped resembled a map more then actual land, helping Dean cope with the frigged altitude. Too high to look real.

Cas held his breath and put his hand over Balthazar's mouth and nose as well. Dean leveled out, hovering and sinking downwards. His hand loosing its grip on the truck in the thin atmosphere. Head swimming. The helicopters giving up the chase when the engines struggled. They retreated and Dean grinned a little light headedly. He dropped another hundred feet. Wings weakening. One of the helicopters shot off their last missile and it headed straight for Dean. Him holding the only thing up here that sported any heat.

Dean smirked. He dropped down just enough to be able to set fire to the cab of the truck and dropped it. His other hand cupping the one Cas and Balth were in, his hind legs and feet also curling inward for protection. Hiding them and the heat from their bodies from sight. The missile immediately honed in on the fire and the plummeting truck exploded into a thousand pieces that all rained down on the remaining choppers. One was hit bad and Dean blearily watched the pilot jump before that one exploded as well. The last one flying retreating from the fireball. Dean couldn't flap his wings anymore, too tired and dizzy, so he glided on down again. Getting some serious speed behind him, he turned it into a curl so he wouldn't end up the next county over.

Inside the fist, Cas and Balth were experiencing some serious G-forces and grit their teeth against it. Not even strong enough to pound on Dean to signal their distress. Dean angled his wings and came out of the curl, putting as much surface area towards the fall so that he slowed down safely. He struggled to flap his wings to push air down as well, anything to slow his descent. He thought the third and last helicopter gave up but heard it just below and a little behind him. Chasing him towards the ground. Waiting for him to crash. It wouldn't have to wait long.

Dean thought, 'Hell with it.' and pushed himself backwards entirely, chest first then belly aiming towards the sky and his head kicked back as if he were falling backwards. Both legs curled in, all covering his fist. His wings tucked around his body next. Like a python that ate a large meal. Then his tail straightened out alongside his spine and neck. He let his body weight drop. The force of the fall aiming straight for the tail end of the chopper. All of Dean's sharp black spikes along his entire spine now acted like a massive saw blade that sheered off the tail from the helicopter, sending it into a downward spiral. Dean bumped into it on his way down, watching it spin out, hitting several trees. His head tilted back even further, seeing the world upside down before doing a back flip in the air, away from the sounds of trees falling. He passively saw the third parachute open and stuck his tongue out at the pilot. Dean 4, choppers 0.

Dean couldn't stay up much longer, _everything hurt_. His ears rang painfully from all of the explosions. Nose clogged with smoke and the overpowering scent of burning helicopter bits. He forced his wings to glide them to safety, landing in a field where he collapsed onto his side. Hands pulled upwards, closer to his face before he passed out. He was just about to open up his hands when he realized he hadn't felt movement from within for at least a few minutes.

'Oh no.... no...' he breathed, eyes trying so hard to focus on his hands. First uncovering his right and revealing how tight his left hand had gotten during all that. His fingers were jerky as he loosened up the tense grip and saw the forms of the two humans. His hand opened up further and the bodies were limp. Legs and arms falling out and what should be uncomfortable angles. Dean closed his fist ever so slightly again, hating how they didn't respond at all. He gently moved his index finger aside and let the one closest to the edge of his palm drop agonizingly slowly to the ground beneath it. A foot drop. Cas didn't move. Balthazar was also let loose onto the ground next to him. Dean pulled his hands away. Afraid of doing even more damage. 'No. No please God no. Please God...' he turned onto his belly, shifting away from them as if just being near them would crush them even more.

Dean used one trembling clawed finger to pull Castiel's right arm a bit straighter, out from under his hips. Dean's eyes felt hot, blurring with tears. Biting his tongue and holding his breath between sobs, he gently moved Balthazar next, rolling the unresponsive body to lie down on his back. A traitorous thought of arranging them like one would inside a casket. 'No... please... no. I didn't mean to... I didn't. Please tell me I didn't...' he leaned his head forward, resting it on the ground. Too devastated to lift it up anymore. He knew what happened. What he did. How they died...

Tears falling into the grasses, a hitched sob escaping him. His hand coming in softly to cup the two figures on the ground. The other hand protecting them from the other side. Dean nuzzled his nose into the middle of the two men. Breaths hitching and sniffling. Still no response. His nose still clogged with the stench of burning plastic, foam and fuel. He couldn't even tell what their last feeling was from the lingering scents. Probably panic. Pain. Betrayal. Fear. Despair...

'He was my Mate... he was my friend... how could I have... What am I supposed to do? It was my job to protect them, keep them safe. I had one job, one job, and I screwed it up. I blew it. And for that, _I'm sorry._ ' Dean sniffed and wiped away a few of the tears with the side of his hand. 'I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. Let Sammy down, countless times, Bobby, and Dad... dying. And I guess I'm supposed to let both of you down too? How can I? How am I supposed to live with that?... Cas, Balth.' Dean broke down, breaths coming in unevenly. Nose to the dirt and torn up grasses and weeds. He firmed his jaw. Teeth gnashing. 'What am I supposed to do now?' Dean sat up abruptly, claws digging into the ground, and _roared_ , ' _WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DOO!?_ '

Dean's tearful eyes looked skyward. Pleading to a God he didn't believe in to somehow save them. He noticed the lines of smoke from the missiles, still hanging in the air, dissipating. His nose sniffed in, tears jerking free at the movement. A snarl shaking his throat. ' _Their fault_. It's all their fault.' his eyes narrowed in on the trees, the discarded parachutes. The sounds of the three pilots calling for help not far enough away for their sake's. 'All their fault. Why couldn't those bastards just leave them alone? What did they do to deserve - ?' He sniffed and looked down again. Both human bodies now askew from his positioning of them. His breaths hitched again, eyes burning, waves of anger and hatred crashing through his very soul. 'I'll do it. I'll get 'em for you.' He growled low, carefully pulling away, a large clawed finger pushing them back into the peaceful resting position they deserved to be in. As if they were merely sleeping.

Dean trembled as he got to his feet, backing up and gave them one last look before turning all of his attention to the three pilots on the ground. He stalked closer to them. Let them see their death approaching. Not needing to run, or jump, or fly. Just walk.

The pilots felt the vibrations in the ground and all jolted to the blank faced monster that was calmly approaching. Knowing that their deaths were imminent. It was a foregone conclusion and he was just wrapping it up. Heartless and cold. Decisive. The look someone would make when about to swat an insect that bit them.

It was useless but they couldn't help running on injured legs away from him. Falling from great heights, even with a parachute, shattered kneecaps. At least two of them were hobbling away. The last one acting as a crutch for both. Dean's blank expression slowly cracked. Another tear slid down his mask of a face that screwed up into one full of wrath. He spit venomously at them, 'You _bastards_ took them from me.' Reveling in the scents of how appropriately terrified they were of him. 'You want to fight a monster? _You fucking got one_.'

Dean roared at them and quickened his pace. At this rate, he'll be able to stomp them into the ground in twenty seconds. Or bite their heads off. Or eat them whole. Maybe Walker was right all along. They don't deserve his mercy.

A memory hit him. What better way to disorient them then to howl and make them deaf? His gaze shot to the base. He'll have to save up his fire for that fight ahead. But these guys? They'll need to suffer. They killed Balth, they murdered Cas. Two good people died because of _them_. All this... He would never have resorted to flying that recklessly if he had a choice. Never have had to pin them so close to himself, to keep them away from the fucking missiles, bullets, helicopter blades and explosions. He would deal with his own guilt once he gets rid of this vermin.

He howled at them, knowing full well what that can do to a human's hearing. It wasn't even words, he just let out all of his anger and sadness as he howled. The three immediately fell to the ground, clutching desperately at their heads and _screaming_. He just barely heard it over his own wails. He felt a soft tap on his leg. Then five more in rapid succession once he stuttered in his next outcry. It would have been expected, but it wasn't from the front. He was watching those three pilots and their hands and arms were desperately clutching their heads. Moaning with pain too great to ignore and go for a gun. They were within stomping distance now. Just one hand needed to lift into the air and lean forward to end these pathetic murderers. But. The those taps came from his hind leg, away from the pilots. Nothing else followed. No sounds of more helicopters, no machine guns, no trucks, no soldiers calls or commands.

He turned his head and looked behind himself. The only ones out here at all in the vast fields were the three pilots, and the bodies of Castiel and Balthazar. His eyes were far from focused but he could just barely tell from this distance that one of the bodies was angled in his direction. Laying on its side with an arm pointed at him.

'No. Couldn't be.' he murmured. He turned towards the bodies more fully and the one on its side flopped to its back again. 'No... what?' he turned his attention away and the pilots all struggled to get moving, only managing a slow crawl away. His attention was now split between them. He knew he could catch up to his prey in a heartbeat if he went and checked out the other two. They were his top priority out here. His legs stumbled as he walked, forcing them into a jog to get there sooner. The trampled area marking out where he landed and laid down. The two bodies lay nearly in the same positions he put them in, but Balthazar's was angled differently. He nosed at the body and smelled gunpowder. Eyes darting to the hand that held a recently fired gun. It was under Balth's hand, half covered in grass. He inhaled the air around the two bodies and felt a nudge come from under his chin. Ducking back instantly to see Balthazar's eyes squint open for a second before he coughed raggedly.

Dean's heart stopped and he nudged right back. Helping Balth onto his side as it looked like the Brit was two seconds from throwing up. Which he did. Balth's hands crooked, trying hard to find the strength to keep himself upright enough to not fall in the pile of sick. Dean couldn't get his hand close fast enough so his tongue snaked out and tugged Balthazar back a couple of feet. Letting him down onto his side and sucking his tongue back inside his mouth. Willing himself to not think about how the human tasted. Thankfully it was just clothes that he made contact with.

Balth breathed heavily and looked up at the looming car sized head over him. Shading them from the sunlight. He tried to speak but ended up coughing again even more haggardly. A hand shot out to Cas and he smacked the shoulder closest. Cas didn't respond. Balth's eyes widened a little bit and he hit Cas again with more intent behind it.

“Ca - Cassie?” Balth managed, gripping part of the coat and shaking it. “Cassie? You with us?” he felt around the neck, mouth. Silence in the stillness. “He was breathing just a minute ago... I, I, _I know it, I saw it_!” he adjusted his position and knelt on the ground beside Castiel's body, hands going immediately to the sternum, lining up his hands between his collar bones and bottom tip of the sternum, and starting CPR. Dean hovered overhead. Unable to do anything at all but watch and hope. Five compression's and then a breath. Five more compression's and a breath. “Come on, Castiel. Come on buddy.” He muttered as he pushed down again. Dean got too close, Balth stopped just long enough to push him away. “Trying to work!” he snapped and went back into it with more fervor. “Cassie! Don't you fucking quit!”

Dean backed up all the way, sunlight streaming over the two humans. He leaned one side to the other, looking around desperately for a way to help. To do anything. 'Tell me what to do!' he trilled at Balthazar. 'Does he need water? or... or or _what_? Shot of Adrenalin? Uh... what can I do?!'

“Dean. Just give us some room.” Balth never tore his gaze off of his friend. He could hear the massive being pace now. Whimpering. Saying something with his whines and mewls. Sounding so distressed and weak. He had to put it out of his mind. At least he was able to get the dragon away from the pilots. He woke up with that howl and had to act fast. Dean would never have come back to them if he murdered those people. Castiel would never have forgiven him. “Dean. Just...”

he stopped to give breath to Castiel's body. Mind racing of all the different methods he's heard of to give CPR. Compression's only, three pushes for every two breaths. Five count for five count. Different eras, different methods. He felt tears falling onto the tan coat. Three compression's... fourth. He sat back on his heels. Wiping off his face, his own breath hitching into a sob. He'd been going at it for five minutes. Odds of survival running through his head now. Balthazar gripped the coat and lifted the body a few inches from the ground and slammed it down. “You asshole! Fight!” and slammed it again. “You can't leave us here!” S _lam._ “Fight!” _**slam.**_ “Breath God Dammit!” and slapped his face.

A huge gasping breath was sucked in and stuttered for just a second before blue eyes shot open and he coughed it all out. Another gasp and eyes squinting shut at the white light. Wet coughs hacking into Balthazar's side as he was hugged into his best friend. Weakly shoving at Balthazar to loosen his grip. Dean's muzzle bullied its way in and Castiel was pushed back by the sheer exuberance.

'You're alive! You're _alive!!_ ' Dean chirped, kissing Castiel's side and nudging him carefully back into a sitting position, knocking Balthazar over in the same move. He ducked back just long enough to curl his whole body around the two tiny humans. Protecting them from the world. Dean lowered his head in next to Castiel who used the bridge of his trembling nose to come to a stand. Coughing the whole while. His arms snaked around his chest and he slid back down to the ground. A cry of pain shooting out of him. Cas felt around his right arm and cried out again when he felt the break. Balthazar hovered his hands over the area and he looked up at Dean.

“His arm's broken, maybe ribs too. I'll need to splint the arm and bind the ribs.” Balthazar could see the warring emotions on the dragons face. “I need strong saplings to splint his arm.” he said slower, getting through to Dean.

Dean's eyes shone with delight at the fact that they were both alive, but now hardened for the task at hand. He would have simply take them to a place to get it done, but just moving Castiel before fixing him up would do more damage. He could only manage a jog towards the woods. Finding the right saplings was difficult because everything looked like toothpicks to him. Screw it. He plucked up numerous saplings, roots an all and brought a bundle with him on back. Only giving the other three humans a withering glare. Not worth his time and attention now. Ignoring them literally made them go away. The blood lust nearly gone away as he left the enemy, and approached his family.

He felt an internal shutter just then. Forgetting about Dane completely during the attack. He had a few seconds to talk. 'Dane? You ok?'

Dane curled tightly into himself. Still shivering and tense.

Dean pressed on. 'It's ok, they're gonna be fine. Just got to get these back to them.' he said and lifted up his handful of saplings. Not willing to carry them in his mouth and get his toxic saliva all over them.

Dane was still quiet but gave Dean the impression of hearing him. If nothing else.

'So... ok, we'll get this done then go get Mother.'

Dane only peeked one eye out of his cocoon. Choosing to display all of the wounds of the fight so far on his hide. Bloodshot and swollen eyes. Bruises on the tender parts of his skin. The bullets still lodged firmly into the scales that didn't make it all the way through, but still hurt. And all of the scratches on his hands, inside and out. He opened up his left and stared at it. Dean must not have been aware that the two humans were clawing at his palm for him to release them. Loosen the grip. _To stop crushing them_.

Balth had his gun tucked into his pants pocket but couldn't reach it, struggling to use it to alert Dean to their plight.

Dane felt every emotion Dean had, including some of the senses that Dean wasn't fully aware of during the fight. No filter. The anger towards the flying bipeds. The body being weakened, injured. The extreme sadness from loosing his family. Shifting directly into desire to torture the ones Dean held responsible, before ending their lives. The thoughts of smashing the enemy's tiny bodies into the ground. And maybe even eating them, because Walker said they tasted so good. And why not eat them? Dean thought they killed his family.

Dane winced and curled up tight again. Silent.

Dean looked inward once more and spared his Drauglin self a second to give an encouraging mental nudge. Ducking back out again because apparently Dane needed some more space.

'Got the saplings.' he chirped and laid down the twenty or so small trees. Balth quickly sifted through them and had Dean snap the ones he liked into smaller manageable sections. He instructed Dean to lower his head and with some precision, used one of his sharp jaw spikes to help cut the fabric into strips. Carefully wrapping four small sticks around Cas's forearm and binding them up tightly. Cas reaching out and grasping air before Dean gave him his wing thumb to grip. Cas could only grab a hold of the end of that claw. The wing thumb itself as thick as a human leg. It helped though, and Cas panted his way through the pain and tears.

Balthazar carefully inspected his work and tightened it one last time before tying it together. Cas then lifted his arms hesitantly and with no small amount of pain, Balthazar tied the longest strip of shirt around his broken ribs, tightening it up and then wrapping Cas's hand in with it. Making sure the arm wouldn't go anywhere.

Castiel hunched over a little, breathing hard and whimpering. He looked up and managed a grin that looked more like a grimace at Dean. But the blue eyes said it before his mouth caught up. “Thank you, Dean. For saving us.” and pulled Balthazar in for a one armed hug. “Thank you my old friend.” he whispered into his ear. Kissing his cheek and waving for Dean to get closer to kiss him on the side of his lip. “Thank you.” he sighed before nearly collapsing. Balth's hands were there first and Dean's right hand behind them both. Swooping in a palm as big as a king sized bed as their feet left the ground. Dean holding them up in a soft hand to help transport them. Balth looked like he wanted to protest but there was nothing for it. They had to get out of there and there was no way they could hold onto any other part of the Drauglin for the trip unless they wanted to be folded up in his wings and risk sliding out.

Balth looked up to Dean who was suddenly very nervous about holding them. “You don't have to fly us. Can we just walk?” after all the excitement, Balth did not want to fly _ever again_. The memories of trying to get Dean's attention long enough for him to loosen his grip. The changing of pressure and altitude and speed making it difficult to figure out which way was up and what was going on. Struggling inside that massive grip did nothing at all. He blacked out right after Cas when Dean was dive bombing somewhere and made a sharp turn. Then, that loud howling sound woke him up and his first thought was, 'Get him to stop,' so he did. The gun in his hands felt foreign to him but necessary. He aimed it at his friend and shot his leg.

Originally aiming for his butt, it likely having the most padding and were Dean human, the safest place to shoot someone from behind because of the lack of major arteries and organs. But he missed. Next time he'll shoot off the rounds when he's upright and without a possible concussion. The first round was to get him to stop howling, and thankfully, it worked. Then Balth could just about tell that his friend was looming over some people, hackles raised. It looked as though Dean wasn't quite putting two and two together. That they were alive and needed immediate help behind him. To leave those soldiers alone. So there goes their remainder of the bullets into the same spot of Dean's leg. Probably never made it past scale one. Feeling more like a lover's butterfly kiss then anything.

Coming back to the present, he felt the flesh of Dean's hand under their bodies and felt sick to his stomach. Too recent memories of how fast the fingers could snap shut on them for another round of crushing. They were helpless then, and even more so now. Barely strong enough to stand unassisted. They had nearly died in these hands. Balth didn't want to be in them for any longer then needed. If he could make the trek he would but he also had Cassie to worry about. At least Dean didn't look like he wanted to tightly close the fist on them again. Holding his hand like a loose bowl with them in the middle of his palm, legs half dangling from the side near his pinky finger. So fuckin' small and fragile compared to him. Balthazar wondered if Dean could even feel them at all past the thick skin and scales. It was softer on the underside of his hand, but also better padded for walking on and grabbing things.

Dean too was staring at them like he held half broken robin's eggs in his hand and one wrong move could kill. But, they simply couldn't make it on their own. This field is far from safe. He wouldn't fly right now, but knew he would have to later. Probably with passengers again. And having them ride anywhere else would be suicide. He was not built to be safe to be around. Nearly everything about him was geared towards destruction.

Besides that, Dean was also in very rough shape. It was easy to misdiagnose because when humans look at something so large, they don't think of it ever being able to feel pain like a human would if all that happened to them. Monsters in horror movies can withstand bombs going off on them and never show a single scar. But real life? This was different. Dean looked _tired_ and half dead _._ Only holding on for so long before collapsing to the floor and never moving again. “Are you ok to walk, Dean?” Balthazar held an arm around Castiel to keep him steady on the hand. “We can probably walk to safety ourselves. You don't have to-”

Dean snorted out of his nostrils and curled in his thumb as a seat belt for the two of them. Pulling them close to his chest and using his wing thumbs instead of his hand to walk to give them the smoothest ride he could. He made it to the edge of the woods, seeing the weird package that was in the back of the truck. It had burst open on impact and a heady scent filled the air. His mind started to swim and calm. Holy crap. That was kinda nice.

“Dean?” Balth was about to ask when he got a whiff of the dragon herb too. “That's that herb that helps with your pain. You can take some of it now if you want, but it will knock you out if you get too much.”

Dean didn't give a shit what it was, he was gonna eat it. Maybe even roll around in it. Bathe in the stuff like a cat with nip. 'How sweet it is of you to give me some nip guys.' he purred and inhaled the herb deeply. His tongue snaked out and he took a taste. Eyes rolling in delight but he felt his tongue go numb. 'Oh. Knocks you out. Painkiller.' he assessed and sat down in front of the busted package. He pinched some using just his claws and applied it to the newest cuts. Smearing it into his scales and humming at the soothing sensation. 'I know Cas is my Mate an all, but, Balth. I wanna marry you.' Dean dry kissed Balth's chest before going back to administering his aching muscles and cuts. 'Screw it.' he mumbled and gently dropped Cas and Balthazar off next to the nearest tree as he did in fact, roll in it. Smashing the herb into the grasses and saplings. The leaves turning to a pulpy mush under his weight and he sighed happily. 'Fucking stars. I'm seeing stars right now. How beautiful.' he waved a few fingers in the air like trying to touch sunlight.

Balthazar frowned at the mess the Drauglin was making. At least he'd be able to salvage some of it for later use. He looked around the area. This place was good for a hideout for he and Cas. Cassie was already hunkering down against a tree and breathing hard, trying to compartmentalize the pain like Sam was teaching him. Neither one of them could fight anymore. Dean should leave them here for the others to fetch after the battle. At least when he and Cas smoke the herb they too wont feel any pain from their injuries. Balth was grateful for his Bic lighter surviving the fall.

Dean rolled to his side sluggishly. 'I jus wanna fall asleep.' He purred. 'No pain. None at all. Can't even feel my skin.' he said and waved his fingers in front of his face. 'These moving or am I high?' and waved them at the humans.

Now that Dean was totally calm Castiel could tell what he was saying and was concerned. “Dean. Do you trust me?”

Dean huffed a chirping giggle and turned around lazily to look at his mate. 'Of course, Pumpkin.'

“You have to get out of that now and wash it off.”

Dean pouted. 'But it feels amazing. Not to feel.' Yawning. His limbs falling dramatically to the ground. All loose and akimbo.

“Did you forget about the others? Rufus, Sam, Bobby? Your Mother? They all need your help now, my Love.” Castiel winced as he got back to his feet and walked closer to lay a hand on Dean's slack face. “They need you now. We are fine, Balthazar and I are just fine. You saved us, now it's time to help out the others.”

Dean felt guilty for even thinking about wanting to sleep. Bringing the importance of his mission to the fore and he rocked himself back into a sit, then a stand when he got the energy for it.

“You're already benefiting from the herb, but if you don't wash it off now, you'll fall asleep. Get captured again and there wont be any way we can help you.”

Dean nodded and looked wistfully to the smashed greenery and sighed. 'Ok.' and twitched his side fan ears to hear the spot where the river exited the base again. Making for that in a slow walk. A few minutes pass an he finds the current, not as strong as before since the river is wider and deeper here. More like a lake. He walked in without further preamble and drank deeply from it just before bathing as instructed. A plume of red and green coming from him. He rested in the water for two minutes before deciding to follow it upstream towards the sluice gates that belong to the base. From there, it was a simple matter of stepping over the fence. Not even needing to jump or climb. He was just inside the base in four steps. Only a handful of men and women were left outside and it was clear that they weren't going to suddenly attack. News of his skills and brutality probably spread _everywhere._ Now, they parted from his path like scared mice seeking shelter. He lifted his gaze and spotted the Impala's black shine on a hill nearby but outside of the base.

There's a large cliff and some woods between them and the gate, so he assesses his wings for another flight. He can't start the party without everybody there. He took to the air again, circling wide so the guys on the ground wouldn't know where the Impala was, and nearly drops from the sky when he sees a large flat cover with clamps of shining silver on the ground. Honing into its specific shine nearly on instinct because it is dangerous to him. It looked so large that he knew it had to be the area over his mother's cage. Meg mentioned the steel cover with a silver net directly underneath it, over the hole they kept Cricket in. It would drop onto her if she tried to escape. It wasn't just one net though, it was several that were woven tightly over the area. A series of clamps holding it to the four walls slides so when it fell, it would fall straight down onto her. She'd be unable to wiggle out from under it. Dean knew this would take some help from people that can touch silver and not burn their skin off. He hoped three people were strong enough to tug it away.

The smell of the silver made him sneer. Cricket had lived with it for months. The constant threat of pain literally hanging overhead. Dean flew faster towards the Impala. He landed close by, seeing Sam and Rufus reaching him first, Bobby lagging behind due to his injury. Dean rolled onto his belly again, trying to catch his breath. He didn't bother talking, just signing, 'Found moms cage. Theres a cover over top of the silver net. I'll melt metal clamps.' and resting his hand from all of those letters.

“Ok, did Cas and Balthazar get out safely?” Sam asked first.

Dean bobbled his head. 'Alive. Cas broke arm and ribs.' and frowned, pointing to the area that he left them in. pinpointing it long enough for Bobby to mark it on their map. He then noticed how far they were already getting on the circle. Too bad he had to kidnap them now. He didn't even wait for permission or to get his strength back, that could take too long and there were sirens going on down there.

'Bend your legs.' was the only warning they got. He reached forward with his right hand and gathered them all up, plucking them where they stood and had a little difficulty keeping them from squirming out of his grip. His claws at the ends of his fingers curled inward to help keep them inside his splayed hand. That stilled their protests for a hot minute. He dipped his head down and grabbed the bag of guns that was on the hood of the Impala and turned around. Stretching out his wings, he glided down the cliff side in a different route to take them directly to Cricket's cage.

Dean landed more gracefully this time. Thankful for the herb numbing his aches and pains till later. He let them off of his hand gently and they immediately cursed him out as they went for their handguns. Dean just didn't have time to listen to the proper procedures for hauling humans. He already learned his lesson with Cas and Balth. Daylights wasting.

He assessed what flame spray he had left and with Rufus's help, located the main locks for the cover. At least the cover wasn't silver so he dug his claws in as far as they'll go and pulled hard. It came loose without a fuss but the steel lid thing was heavy as hell. He dragged it at an angle so it wouldn't fall onto the silver net, causing a chain reaction that would make it fall onto his mother. He pulled it away and now assessed the silver net's clamps. Dean set fire to them and waited as they melted. He wished he could just grab it in his jaws and pull hard and fast like the cover, but it was locked down and made to withstand a dragon. Sounds below signaled the female Drauglin's distress, no doubt curling up in the center to avoid the dripping silver metal. He could hear Meg's voice calling for her to be calm.

Dean was about to say something but heard metal on metal back at the storage garage and some clipped orders given to fire at will. He sighed theatrically, 'Poor Will, what did he do?' He dashed away, wings spread again and hissing at them. If he was at full strength, he would have decimated the building but could only manage to stomp the entrance flat so they'd have to dig their way out. His tail was like a club, whipping all of the entrances into rubble. He wishes like hell he could do more. This base is filled with fire ants. They just keep popping up out of nowhere to ruin his day.

The entrances unusable now, he scouts the area listening to his guys pulling on the silver netting. Struggling with the sheer weight of it. Dean goes looking for a machine of some sort they could use to attach to the net to drag it away. But it seems as though all of the trucks and tanks strong enough were sent to handle him when he was back at that highway. He kinda screwed up on that one. The employee parking lot was another option but it was just too far away for him to get to in time. He wanted to be within eyesight of his family at all times.

The netting over Cricket's cage was pulled only halfway by the struggling humans. Dean pacing anxiously nearby, wanting to help beyond just setting the small fires that weakened the metal joints on the roofs cover. He dared not touch the silver because his injuries could mean all the difference between success and failure right now. Still, he hated himself for being this weak against a simple metal. Another reminder that he's monster enough to be burned by the pure element. He spun around and made sure that the others could work unhindered as some of the remaining soldiers were finally able to make it past the concrete boulders.

He still hadn't gotten a clear look at his mother, not wanting to crowd his family and the others as they worked. One corner of the net slipped down into the cage on accident and he could hear a sharp cry of pain from his mother, whirling around to see what caused it. He saw the net slowly slip further into the cage, threatening to cover her up completely as the humans were trying like mad to keep it from slipping down further, and _loosing._ He bit down on the nearest side to him and backed up quickly. The teeth were not effected by the silver but his gums would brush against it and he yelped through his teeth. Instead of letting go, he used it like an incentive to _move faster._ He scampered backwards without looking, Bobby ducking between the retreating form to end up underneath Dean when he drops it as soon as he was free of the cage. He snapped his jaws several times as the sting of the silver still felt like it was burning his mouth. Bobby high tailed it from under his thrashing tail as Dean swayed a little before he kept on backing up, forgetting he's moving on instinct to get away from the thing that caused him such searing pain.

Thankfully it wasn't too permanent, and he couldn't stop salivating to soothe the hurt gums, some drool falling out of the side of his mouth against his will. Sam was there, trying to get his attention by patting his arm as the human ran to keep pace with Dean. Dean finally felt small feet on the top of his hand as Sam just jumped onto his fingers. He looked down and a large dollop of drool narrowly missed Sam's body as he hugged Dean's forearm to stay on top.

'You ok?' Dean asked, licking his lips of the drool but making it worse. 'Reckless. I could have stepped on you.' Dean shook his head a little and then looked over to the opening in the ground. Not realizing till now just how far he backed up from it and the silver net. 'You riding or walking?' he asked as Sam steadied himself on the hand. Before his little brother could answer, several soldiers opened fire on Dean. 'Shit!' he exclaimed and curled his hand forward and then downward so that Sam would fall off his hand and onto his back before the clawed hand moved completely away again. Sam got the breath knocked out of him but got up quickly in time to see Dean charge at the soldiers who continued to shoot at him. They were hiding behind a car and Dean lowered his head to skewer the car with his horns, lifting it up quickly and away, sending the soldiers in a panic. The car landed not far away but the show of brute force made them retreat for now. Dean let out a small puff of his accelerant at the two remaining soldiers and they retreated faster then the others, in fear of being set on fire.

Dean got the idea to do that to every one of the bad guys. Make them think twice about firing off any guns because the sparks would ignite the spray on their cloths. That way, he could make them harmless and not be responsible for their deaths. If they chose to fire, they themselves would be set on fire in the process. Thankfully, every single person at the base knew about the dragons spray so he didn't have to warn them about its deadly effects. Even if he ran out, he could pretend hiss it at them and have the same effect.

If nothing else, the fumes from it were toxic for humans, so they'd need to run to a place where the air was clearer. He also had to make sure that his family didn't accidentally come in contact with it for the same reasons.

Sam was already back with the others, shouting down to Meg who was still at his mother's side. Dean could hear her down there and forced himself not to go to her because he was really all that they had between them and the military. He strode angrily around the grounds, daring someone to make a move but thankfully there wasn't anyone else out now, willing to test their luck. It was silent, but the cease fire wouldn't last long.

Sam leaned over the square hole in the ground and Meg waved at him while dusting herself off of the falling debris. When the roof had been removed, they couldn't get it all in once piece and concrete dust kept on falling like snow. The pitch black sleek female dragon was half curled around Meg and shook herself to get rid of the thick layer of dust and small rocks. Cricket's gaze clearly checked over Meg and Sam's heart beat a little harder, worried for the woman's sake but she was saying something to Cricket that he couldn't make out.

“Meg? You ladies alright?” Sam called down and saw Meg and Cricket look up at the same time. Something in the dragon's gaze shifted and he knew the exact moment she realized there was a way out of her cage. Sam's heart nearly stopped when he saw the massive dragon consider her small human friend before wrapping her up in one large hand and passing her up to that sides wing. Meg was folded into it against her will and Cricket tucked it into her side, keeping her safe. Sam remembered Dean doing that very same move and knew Meg would be safe, the only thing keeping him from freaking out about her disappearing from view.

Sam was about to call out again but the sight of the fifty-five foot tall dragon leaping upwards scared the shit out of him with how fast she moved. Slender but clawed hands reached up and snagged on the edge of the deep hole, feet swinging forward and scrabbling at the bars and walls, anything to get some leverage to help her climb up. Sam fell on his ass as Cricket's neck swung forward and knocked him over. He scooted back a few feet before flipping over and half crouching, half running away from the massive dragon. He stumbled to his knees and then scrambled a bit further, hissing in pain as the gravel bit into his knees and legs. Cuts heal, but there's no way to survive being _squished_.

Cricket's other wing was free to lurch up and out and was used to help pull herself up, the other wing coming up, still folded with Meg inside, swung forward and unfolded, letting Meg out as gently as she could so that the girl was free and away from the hole. Cricket paused just long enough for Meg to get the hint and move far enough away from her to continue climbing up on her own. The ground shook with every kick she made with her huge legs, trying to dig into the inside of the cage walls for a foot hold. Front claws sinking into the gravel but sliding backwards. Her strength waning the longer it took her to get up. Her mouth thinned to a hard line, eyes squeezed shut and a huge inhale of breath before her wings slammed down on either side of her and push-pulled against the ground. Giving her the extra boost she needed to get first one then the other clawed foot into the edge of the hole. Kicking off again to land on the ground with an earth shaking thud. Her legs splayed out and weakly clawed at the ground as she tried to catch her breath again. Eyes now squinting in pain from the exertion.

Meg hovered nearby, everyone watching the mother's body as it writhed on the ground for a solid minute. Worn out already from the strain, and lingering burns from the melted silver puddles along the edge of the cage. She had been caged up for too long.

Dean was frozen still, only able to see the rear left side of his dragon mother. She hadn't seen him yet, too busy whimpering and breathing hard into the ground. Trying to get over the pain. He could relate. Suddenly, all these humans looked so small in comparison to Dean. He finally sees something his size, something that _looks_ like him. Like he did when he was first freed. His heart lurched at the sight of her. She had been starved thin at one point, showing signs of improvement, but from his own experience, it would take awhile to get back to being healthy again. That hollow look she once shown would have had him setting fire to the world for how horribly they treated her. The bond between mother and son is growing stronger by the second and Dean felt his Drauglin counterpart screaming to let him in control. He had to swallow back the feelings. This isn't over yet and Dane would be too impartial for the plan to finish. His concern was _clearly_ solely for his mother right now, humans be damned. He struggled to contain Dane, the internal conflict taking its toll.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bobby and Rufus booking it back up to where their stuff was, where Dean basically kidnapped them from to help with the net. The old hunters had to get back there asap and make quick work in the dirt at the circular track not far away. Getting it set up.

The other humans and seasoned hunters alike, were oblivious to his internal conflict with his own trembling body. His little brother noticed, though, and started to march on over to his struggling big brother. Bypassing the mother dragon who he was supposed to be watching and keeping out of trouble till they could get her out. How he was expected to do that was never clear, so he left to check on Dean. He couldn't help her out anyhow, he's just one small human here. Meg could handle her. Dean needs help, and Sam can give it to him.

The wind shifted and Cricket lifted her eyelids at a passing scent. Her nostrils flared again, head slowly bobbing about, trying to triangulate its source. It was familiar to her. A scent she had put aside in her memory. Old feelings of betrayal and hatred attached to it. Revenge all boiling to the surface as she heard soft taps on the ground moving away from her. A human grunting from pain, cloth shifting as it was pressed against skin and rubbed around as it walked. Her ears confirming the sound of a male voice as it called out to something behind her.

“Dean? Dean! What's wrong?” Sam cupped his hands around his mouth to be heard at the distance. His brother was practically vibrating where he sat, head cocked to one side and teeth bared at nothing in front of him.

Dean looked up just as his mother did. There they were, facing each other, his brother in between, limped on over with blood showing on his jeans and shirt. Dean was torn, did his mother do that to his Sammy? Even Dane was quietly watching. His struggles for control halted by the sight of their mother looking at them. Her eyes went to slits as she inhaled and exhaled with more force then necessary, getting pissed about something and the murderous glint in her eye stunned Dean for a moment.

Dean let out a shocked gasp and his mother's eyes darted up to him. He finally realized that the hatred she had was all for Sam who was still making his way over, crossing the distance as fast as his small human legs could. Sam had no idea the danger behind him.

Cricket knew that scent. _Knew_ that voice. _Knew_ that biped. _It's all his fault!_ None of this would have happened if it wasn't for _that bastard_! Her muscles tensed up again, rage fueling her body into action, air filling her lungs almost as fast as it was pushed out again. She focused in on him, he was already bleeding and trying to escape. How foolish it was to think he could outrun her. She readied herself to stand just as another sound was caught in the wind. Her gaze shot up from her prey and locked onto another Drauglin. Her focus and intent faltered for a second.

The other Drauglin was male, tall, strong and hunched over himself. Obviously injured from battle. Bleeding from cuts and burns all over. Barely standing but still a potential threat. It lifted up its head and stared right back at her. A mix of emotions behind that look. She could relate. It wasn't often she could see one of her own kind. No doubt this male was the source of that howl and roars she heard earlier. Something kept tickling the back of her mind as she stared at him. She wondered what he was doing here. The last she'd seen of another living adult male was caged up with her up until a little while ago. That was her second son, all black and deep brown, similar to her, but filled with hatred and loathing. Anger that was stronger then any other living thing she'd encountered in a thing that wasn't biped.

This male Drauglin, however, looked lost, alone, and just now seeing another one of them, alive, real. The poor thing might never have found another Drauglin and somehow found her. Her eyes warmed at the sight of him. One that was starved for companionship that can only come from one of their own kind. If he turns out to be safe and wants to, she would travel with him to the island.

Movement caught her eye again in between the two of them, the bastard biped fell to his knees, tripping on something in the ground. It was headed towards the male dragon with purpose, the male didn't seem to know the danger he was in as he just sat there staring back at her, mouth opening and shutting. Like he wanted to say something. The male's eyes went to the biped in that second as well and he got to his feet, but still wavered side to side like it was dizzy. He was obviously beat. No doubt a great warrior but even fighters can loose when the enemy is cunning and vast. He helped get her free, the least she could do is this.

She looked over to the male Drauglin and chuffed at him to get his attention. He looked up and she winked at him. He cocked his head, mouth snapping shut.

Cricket quietly got to her feet, coiling around herself until she fully faced the biped as it got back to his unsteady feet and kept on staggering over to the male. That got a reaction from the male as its eyes looked more alert, and shock painted across his face. She would eliminate the threat that's before him, this biped, once and for all. For the betterment of _all_ Drauglin's! She leapt to her feet, closing the distance swiftly.

Sam was about halfway to Dean when he looked up and saw shock on his brother's face, looking at something over his head. He whipped around just as he felt the ground quake from something massive landing on it. The tremors knocked him off of his feet and he narrowly missed a gaping maw of sharp teeth that darted over him. The force of the move rolled him over and over as the long neck behind the head pushed him along. The huge head lifted over top of him and growled openly at him. Covering him in a cloud of poisonous vapor and choking him instantly.

Unlike the other times with Dean, this was on purpose and meant to suffocate and incinerate. He threw up his arms to cover his head as he felt budding intense heat over top of him. This was it. This is how he dies. A ball of flames that once resembled a human. At least it would be quick.

A nearly crushing blow slammed into his body as he was sent flying through the air. An explosion of sound and light and _death_ just on his heels as he flipped through the air, free of the fireball. He landed harshly on something that was at an angle and rolled down to the ground. Dirt kicked up around his body and stuck to his wet clothes and skin. Coughing it out of his mouth and lungs. He heard a seismic crash overhead and the dirt ceased raining over him. He jerked his head up and saw Dean and Cricket tumbling over each other, tangled limbs and claws, moving away from him.

Cricket squawked indignantly and bit into Dean's arm and he let go of her to whirl around for a better attack position. She kicked him in his side and he was left sprawling. She must not want him dead because Sam was able to see her pause in the attack to his neck. She shook her head at Dean and shoved him aside again, gaze darting around the area and landing square on Sam.

“ _Fuck._ ” Sam breathed and scrambled to his feet. He ran as fast as he could away from her, belatedly hearing Bobby calling his name. He felt the ground tremble underneath him again, bucking under his pounding feet, and ducked down as her body soared overhead. Unable to stop the momentum of all that weight, she clawed into the ground to stop her skid. Sam was already up and running towards Bobby and Rufus on the ridge. Long legs eating up the ground but not fast enough. He could just barely see Bobby at the ready, holding the clay bowl. Too far. _Too fucking far_. His feet pounded the ground but not nearly as impressive as the female Drauglin that was once again on his heels. Teeth snapping at the air behind him.

“Dean!!” he cried out desperately. No chance in hell of survival on his own. “De-!” he felt pressure on his body again, wet and crushing for just a second as his feet were swept up from underneath him. His stomach dropped to his feet. Something huge and slimy wet was coiling itself around his body and pulling him into a cavernous red and black hole. He swiped his hand across his face to clear the slick wet substance and the dirt mixed in to see solid white curved cones closing in around him. A mouth! The tongue coiled tighter and he gagged on the fumes and saliva. He was turned around harshly by the force of the tongue flipping him effortlessly around into better position, and he caught a sight of his intended destination down the gaping black hole of her undulating throat. A gurgling growl coming from deep within the body reached his ears and he froze for just a moment to comprehend just how hopeless his situation really was.

One hand was pinned down next to his side and the other started to push with all his might at the tongue that was still curled around him. He pleaded with her to stop, hoping that she'd somehow understand him. She's done this so many times its now a skilled art form. She knew just how to maneuver him, however she liked.

The roof of the mouth was flexible and ribbed and he was forced against it, rolling over and around being pushed and pulled by the tongue. He realized he was being cleaned of dirt as he saw the muddy mixture pool at the front of the mouth and all of the space he one had was gone, pinned down on all sides, he couldn't breath for a second until he felt the mouth move sharply forward and back, the slick spit was expelled out with force and the jaw loosened a little. The pool of mud gone and being replaced with clearer saliva. Drenching his form as a deep rumbling sound vibrated his very bones. The tongue moving lazily now, moving him side to side and dragged all along her mouth, all of his protests and cries went ignored. She was tasting him. A cross between hatred and desire in those growls. She wanted to savor him as much as kill.

Sam punched all around himself and suddenly was forced underneath the tongue into the squishy mounds. The tongue weighed heavy on his body. Only his upturned face was left above the rising level of saliva. His head was at the front of the mouth, just behind her lower teeth. Long hair getting caught between the gums and fangs. A rumbling growl shook his whole world and nearly made him deaf. He could see the throat move in different ways, causing different growls to be heard. A pulse of air and a sharp high pitched shock wave caused him to cry out in pain. The pressure from all around him was intense as the growls were formed and forced the rest of the way out of the mouth and into the world beyond his wet fleshy tomb before it sealed shut in pitch blackness. Nearly silent, only the sounds of her heartbeat and labored breathing was heard. After a moment, the jaw loosened just a little and air seeped in. He took greedy lungfuls of it while he still could. He didn't dare question why she hadn't swallowed yet. Thinking about it might make it happen sooner.

Dean aborted his next attack as he saw the Drauglin's mouth close around Sam's whole body. She side stepped away from him, growling and warning him, 'You come any closer, dare threaten me again, and I'll bite down on his flesh. I'll make it _hurt_.'

Dean ducked down and back from her. He could hear his little brother being pushed around inside of the mouth and the small pleas for her to stop.

'Don't... please don't hurt him.' Dean bowed down, lowering to his belly and looking up at her with pleading eyes. _Begging_. 'Please? I'll do anything you want.' he saw her move her mouth some more and spat out some muddy saliva and then close her mouth again. No movement. His horror at the thought that his brother was swallowed whole, just like he had been. 'Don't hurt my brother, _please_. Don't eat him. If you've already swallowed him, at least turn him into one of us? Don't _kill him_ , please.' Dean groveled at her feet, creeping forward and whimpering. 'He's my brother.'

Cricket lowered her jaw a little and inhaled some air, letting the male Drauglin see inside just enough to make out the tuft of brown hair that made it out between two fangs. She heard his relieved exhale and his posture change ever so slightly. 'Who are you?' She demanded, feeling the biped underneath her tongue tremble at her growls.

'You don't recognize me?' Dean asked back, the feelings of Dane wanting control again coming back again. Not forcefully this time, more like nudging, asking.

Cricket narrowed her eyes and growled out, ' _Who are you_?' again. The damned biped under her tongue pushing against it annoyingly. She slid the body to the side of her mouth towards the top and slammed him into the roof of her mouth several times to knock him out. The small body went limp and she was only slightly concerned she overdid it and killed the thing. She wanted him to suffer for what he did to her, her unborn offspring, and her first infant son. She had lonely ages to think about what she'd do to him once she found him again, and none of it was going her way right now thanks to this strange male in front of her. The male kept on calling the bastard his brother. Which didn't seem right. She took a moment to let in more air to revive the biped just a little, she nudged him around with her tongue and noticed herself salivating too much at the amazing taste. It may be a bastard, but he was still biped and they are undeniably delectable. She lifted up her head a little and swallowed the flavored spit before narrowing her glare at the male again.

Dean's eyes went wide at that movement, the lump going down her throat but saw her play with something inside her mouth. Sam was still there. He didn't have to imagine what that was like himself and shivered for his little brother's sake. One of those times would be for real. Dean lifted his head a little more to get a clearer look at her. 'I'm... I'm your son.' he said quietly, hardly loud enough for her to hear him.

She snapped loudly, 'Speak up!' and felt the biped in her mouth bounce a little at those words and curl into his side. She tucked him into the space between her cheek and fangs so she could speak easier and not wonder if he was drowning in her spit again.

Dean winced on behalf of his brother and spoke up louder but still with respect and humility, Sam would die if he pushed her too much. 'I am your son. My brother took me from your nest when I was young.' he said haltingly. When it looked like he was getting through to her he said, 'He helped me remember who I was before you turned me into this.' he lifted his wings a little to indicate his body.

Cricket's jaw dropped a little and Sam's body flopped back onto the tongue. She shoved it back roughly underneath, not yet willing to let him go. She swallowed spit again and saw the pained look in the male Drauglin's eyes as they went wide in terror. She felt his feelings so sharply as the wind shifted her way, bringing all of those scents at her in full force like claws to the face. The familial bond between him and her, as well as him and the biped in her mouth. It really _was her offspring. Her son, her little boy._ And she was _terrifying him_ right now. The last thing in the world that she wanted was for her baby boy to be scared of her. She thought he had _died_ , thought that the other bipeds killed him long ago, almost wished for it. She thought that if he were alive, he was being tortured like she had been and a merciful death would have been preferable to the life she had at the hands of the bipeds. She never thought she'd escape their cage lair. But she had, with the help of these other bipeds. The one staring down her throat right now was here... her mind caught up to the events, the bastard one was probably trying to free her. All she felt was vengeance towards him for what he did in the past, blind to what he had done today. She's topside again thanks to him and this is how she's repaying him?

Sam felt movement all around him again as the head dipped back and a gush of cloudy saliva washed down her throat. This is it. This is how he dies. No more then a small snack for a dragon. She's just slicking up the pathway towards her stomach for his body. He was too weak to fight it from those crushing blows to the roof of her mouth. He could barely stay awake even with all of those deafening sounds coming from her thundering vocal chords just a few feet underneath him. He knew that it would be useless to try and fight against those strong muscles so he just went limp. Accepting this fate. So tired of fighting. Praying she would just end it quickly.

Cricket dipped her head forward and felt the small lump move away from her throat and down her tongue. She curled it around the limp body and guided it carefully the rest of the way out making sure her teeth didn't cut him up along the way. She lifted up her waiting hand for the fragile being. She cautiously lowered her body to the ground and splayed her fingers outward to provide as much cushioned space as possible for it. Unraveling her tongue from the body, she slipped it back into her mouth. Daring to lick the small thing of the excess saliva after a few seconds, and she thought that it will also help revive him.

He was so still...

Dean saw his mother let Sam out and into her hand, creeping forward slowly so as not to anger her further or cause her to take it out on little Sammy. He hesitated before saying anything, heart still thumping like mad and whole body shaking badly. He was too big to help, and if his mother continued to see him as a threat, he could be the indirect cause of Sammy's death. Her eyes darted to him for a second at the sound of gravel crunching under his belly scales and he stopped abruptly, eyes going wide again and an apology already on his lips but she just frowned slightly at him and went back to inspecting the human in her hand.

Dean could sense humans all around the two Drauglin's, willing them to stay back and not make any sudden movements. His mother could just be wanting to set fire to his brother instead of swallowing him whole. The fire wouldn't burn her hand at all, but it would be like holding a fireball for as much liquid flame is on his little brother. Dean suspected that even though his mother's sparker teeth were removed along with his own, her's most likely grew back just like his did. One spark and he will witness his brother burning to death, unable to stop it at all. 'Please... is he?' Dean whimpered as his brother was still laying still and silent.

Cricket rumbled a quiet purr for a few seconds. Trying to soothe her long lost son and calm her own nerves down. It was obvious that her boy held his old brother in higher esteem then her. She couldn't really blame him for that. After all, he was kidnapped from her when he was very young and impressionable. Rejoining his original litter mate for so long... of course her boy would see her as the enemy. She looked him in the eyes for a short moment and gave a half barely there grin. She decided not to keep them apart. She was no longer needed in his life, this little thing took care of her boy when he was away, he was bigger than she imagined he'd be, undeniably strong and alive. A fighter, going by the old and very new scars and burns on his body. He was still here so he had to be the victor in those battles. Probably fighting for family, but right now he was too weak to battle her, or unwilling since she was his mother. Either way, she didn't know the whole story, but could feel that these two were meant to be together and said, 'He's alive. Just, asleep.'

Cricket sighed and lowered her hand to the ground, tilting it and with her nose, nudging him off to lay down on his back in the dirt. She put her hand down next to the thing and nudged the body a little, it curled into itself and she exhaled in relief to know she hadn't broken anything. Some slight moans in his sleep, that's all. The blood from before was seeping through again and she wished she could have fixed the wound by cauterizing it but since bipeds can't withstand fire, that was simply not an option.

Her eyes lit up for a second. Meg. She would know what to do.

Dean watched his mother move Sam around, sniff at the human and then suddenly stand up and turn towards him. He cowered even lower, wings flattening out in submission. He could see the slight disappointment his display was in her eyes. Not good enough. He turned his head to the side, exposing the underside of his already injured jaw to her. Whatever it took to show that he wasn't a threat and neither was Sam. He wouldn't make a move while she was so close to his little fragile brother. Dean wasn't even sure if he could attack his mother. Dane was in the head-space, metaphysically pacing around, waiting anxiously for what happens next. He was surprised to see her 'tisk' at him and walk closer. He winced as she bent her head down to his head, expecting a blow, or bite, or claw gouge, but only got a soft whisper in his ear.

'You turned out to be big and strong.' she smiled sadly, 'So don't cower before anybody. You should keep going on, my son. All I want for you is to be satisfied and live a simple life.' Cricket grinned at him with a sense of pride. He was literally willing to die for family. She just wished he was happy with them. That all of these troubles he had seen were going to be over soon. Fighting for family did not make him weak. She just hated that he had to fight his own mother to get her to see that. A mother is supportive and loving and kind, and she nearly drove him away with her blind rage. She vowed to herself to do better by him, by them. Those people are very dear to her boy, and so she would treat them with respect as well.

She nodded at him, then kept on walking past, straight back towards the gaping hole in the ground over the cage, and approached Meg. She needed a favor.

'Mom?' Dean asked with a wavering voice, lifting his head and getting his feet underneath himself. He looked over to Sam and quickly closed the distance. 'Sammy? Sammy, oh God, Sammy. You ok? What hurts?' Dean nudged him with the end of his nose, smelling all of the flammable spray covering his body. 'Gotta get you cleaned of that stuff before anything happens.' He said and wondered how in the hell he could move him if he's injured. 'You with me?'

Sam was vaguely aware of being pushed again, cringing away from it after he found a bit of strength. Everything hurt. _Every. Thing._ “D'n?”

'Yeah, right here, can you move?' Dean hunched over Sam, protecting him from even the sunlight. His hand came in and he tried to angle it just right for Sam to be rolled right up onto it but the width of his fingers were far wider than Sam's body. 'Hang on, I'm sorry, so sorry I gotta do this...' he mumbled as he then used his tongue to lift up the body with more care then he could with claws as big as Sam's torso.

Sam just had to choose that moment to crack his eyes open and see the rows of teeth and freak out all over again, shoving at the the tongue, hand, lips, anything to get away. “No! Stop! Please don't -” Sam started coughing raggedly, turning to his side and heaving into the dirt. Dean ducked back in with his nose and nudged him the rest of the way onto his hand that curled gently around his brother. Sam pushed feebly against the restraint which broke Dean's heart.

'I gotcha, I won't let anything happen to you. You're _safe_ Sammy, just try and relax. Ok?' he lifted his fragile brother in hand towards his chest and kept him there as he used that side's wing to help him walk towards Bobby. 'Bobby's gonna check you over, ok? You're gonna be fine. Just fine.' Dean took a glance to the side and saw movement in the woods. 'Fuck.'

Sam was just starting to relax in the careful grip when he heard Dean curse and stiffen up. “Is she coming back?”

Dean held Sam closer and said, 'Others. In the woods.' A rumbling growl emanating from deep within. 'Fuck, we're surrounded.'

“Put me down and take them out.” Sam pushed at the fingers again, as weak as a newborn kitten. All his hunter training and he's being carried around like this, unable to fight, or even stand and run.

'Not a chance, Sammy. Almost lost you twice today. Three times... shit, I lost count. All the more reason to shut your mouth and let me take care of you.' Dean quickened his pace towards Bobby and Rufus. Neither one of the hunters could move from their spot now that the spell was about to start. Dean jerked his head to the side to see his mother walking closer, Meg jogging to keep up at her side. Dean was just now seeing that he's almost as tall as his mother. Huh. Guess all that good food while he was shrunk helped him grow relatively taller and healthier then he thought. He was upset that his mother didn't get the same treatment until Meg stepped up and helped her out.

When Cricket got closer, she chirped somewhat nervously. 'I know you don't trust me. So, I'm going to try and earn it. This is Meg, she's safe, friendly. She can help your biped, er, brother.'

Dean looked down to Meg who was looking up at Sam next to his chest. He answered, 'We're fine. Got my own people for that.' and kindly shook his head down at Meg for her sake. Knowing she doesn't understand their speech, just tones and expressions. 'Hi Meg.' he gave a half grin, somewhat remembering his time with her back at the zoo as well as the other places. Even if she was his Mate's Ex-wife, she was an alright chick.

Cricket looked down at Meg, somewhat aghast, 'You never told me you knew my boy!'

Dean could see the anger starting to rise and growled at his mother, self-confident now that he's got Sammy safely in his hand. Now he's got to help out Meg. 'I told her not to tell you! That was _me_. Not her. She's got nothing to do with this.'

Cricket tried to control herself. The feelings of betrayal threatening to make her loose her temper again. She was never this hot headed before, but so many things are happening all at once, it's hard to sort through who is an ally and who is the enemy. Things she knew as fact are being put on their head. All within an hour's time. She'd been freed, her boy is alive, the tall bastard biped is actually a good guy, and her only ally in the pit knew her boy was alive and didn't tell her. And the biggest kick in the teeth is that her boy hates her, but still helped get her out of the cage.

Dean could scent her feelings and rushed to correct her, 'Meg had helped us get you out. She's a friend that had been with my Mate before I met them.' He nearly bit his lip when he admitted that.

Cricket stopped cold and stared at him. 'You... what?' No hate, just pure confusion. She turned to Meg, even though she knew the biped couldn't understand her she still blurted out, 'Meg, you were with another female Drauglin? How?? _Why_? Where is she? There's more of us? Who's her mother? Or was it before she became Drauglin?' she looked around herself, hope in her eyes at finding another of their kind. She knew none of her own female offspring made it, so there must be others out there. Then then her mind came to circle back around to the puzzling notion of her Meg wanting to _be with_ with a female Drauglin. A different kind of relationship. Mates? The way her boy said that his Mate and her were together implied something closer then friends, a profound bond. What if their own friendship was something more in Meg's eyes. Whoa.

Dean scented the air. His mother was feeling some interesting stuff. He wondered if he should correct her now or later. Seeing how she would take the idea of a same sexed couple if her known friend was in one. Start simple, build up the the part with inter-species same sexed couples like his and Cas's. 'Meg didn't Mate with one of us, I mated with one of them.' He could feel Sam squirm in his grasp and rasped out, “D'n. Shut t' fuck up. La'er. You can c'nfuse your m'ther lat'r.” before breathing heavily and going limp again. Using up some more energy to cuss him out and bring him back to their present predicament.

'Yeah, ok, Sammy.' he murmured, petting his brother's back with the side of his thumb in long soothing strokes.

Cricket looked down to the soft sounds of her boy's brother in his grip. 'You understand them?' she got a nod and asked, 'What did it say?'

Dean had to bite his tongue from correcting her about calling Sam an 'it'. Baby steps. At least she was willing to listen. He then gave another glance around the area and said, 'My brother said we have to get out of here, we are surrounded.' he lied about what Sam said and she could tell instantly, but still clearly heard the words themselves, looking around herself.

'So what do we do?' she asked. She'd been locked up for so long that her fighting skills were rusty, her body didn't want to move as fluidly and deadly as she had been able to do in her prime.

This was too easy. Dean was fully expecting his larger mother to fight him on this, or just fight him in general. He decided to push his luck just a little more. 'Do you trust me?'

She countered with, 'Do I have a choice?'

Dean nodded, 'We all have a choice, but if you trust me, we can get out of here and to safety without the soldiers finding us.'

Cricket nodded and said, 'All this time... You were alive?' she started following her son towards a large circle where two other bipeds were standing as if they were waiting for them. 'You were living with bipeds?'

Dean nodded, hobbling forward and said, 'Yeah, and I admit, it wasn't always fun. After a little while, I was kidnapped from my family when I was still growing, this bastard, Azazel had me in this fucking zoo, tortured me into being his pet.' Dean shivered involuntarily and hugged Sam a little tighter without cutting off his breathing. 'After him, I was taken here, but they didn't let me see you, they wanted me to be like them, a soldier, but I set fire to the building and they sold me to yet another asshole, Michael. But you don't have to worry about him, my family and friends took his group out. But uh, while I was there, I met my Mate. _Castiel_.' his eyes went soft a little, remembering the love shared between them. The things he would do for him.

Cricket cooed a little, 'Cas-ti-el, she sounds lovely. Was she kept in a cage too?'

Dean bit his tongue again. Trying to figure out what to say as they got closer to the circle. Just a few dozen more feet. In the woods, the two Drauglin's could hear gunshots and fighting. The cavalry had finally arrived. The hunters Bobby and Rufus called up for clean up. Most likely led by Jo and Ellen. 'Don't worry about them, there's a lot of guys on our side. Sorry, you keep calling them bipeds, I just think of them like regular people.' He motioned with his free wing towards Meg who was jogging to keep up with the two that towered overhead. 'Not all people are bad. They just don't understand that not all of us are bad either.' and shrugged a little. 'Cas, my Castiel, is amazing. And... I hope you like uh.. my Mate.' he omitted the gender and specie. One revelation at a time. 'Soon as we do this thing and get out of here you'll meet Cas. I promise.'

Cricket could sense that her son wasn't telling her the whole truth but couldn't spot the lie. The bangs and sounds in the woods were getting closer and she wanted to help Meg along since it was quite the trek for the little thing. As if reading her mind, her boy said, 'I got her, go on ahead. Stand in the circle and, uh, please don't eat my little family!' he gave a small grin for the bad joke, hoping to ease the tension that was between them. He then dipped the hand down that was holding Sam and scooped up Meg in it as well.

She flailed for just a second before his thumb brushed down her arms to lay as flat as Sam who was only mildly aware of what was going on now. Meg oriented herself again and marveled for a moment about the fact that she was actually being carried around in a hand big enough for two people, maybe even three.

'Sammy? How ya doing? Tell Meg what hurts.'

Dean half paid attention to what was going on below, the rest was split between the woods behind them that were getting increasingly rowdy and his mother eyeballing Bobby and Rufus pretty hard. 'Sam, gonna need you to translate for me since Cas isn't here. So ya gotta wake up for me, ok? Sammy?'

He made it to the circle and gently lowered Sam and Meg down in front of Bobby who helped them out of the hand. Rufus was in front of his mother, looking like he was trying to give directions through body language. 'Hey Mom? He wants you to stand in the circle and don't move at all, ok? I'll join you in a minute.' he chirped reassuringly. 'Don't worry, we wouldn't have broken you out to hurt you. Everyone here risked their lives for us, you can trust them.'

She warily got into the circle with strange markings everywhere inside of it and stood still, looking over at her boy. She could see him mumble something to his brother and held back all questions but one, 'What are you going to do?'

'Take out as many of these evil sons-of-bitches as I can.' he smirked and turned to march into the woods nearest them. They heard screams and shouts and gunshots from one end to the other. Sometimes a wing would be raised above the treeline before slamming back down and the sounds of more men's screams were heard and cut off with groans. A fire was started in the woods that Dean brought over to the hole in the ground. A massive dead oak was ablaze and dragged over to the hole that was Cricket's cage for nearly all of Dean's Drauglin lifetime. The dry wood of the burning oak was setting the grasses ablaze all along the way, making a line that no one could cross without being engulfed in flames. Most of the tree disintegrated as he dragged it along to the other end of the clearing. Another blast of fire was seen taking out yet another dead tree which he grabbed and drug back to the hole again and kicking it in. Panting heavily he headed back to the circle when someone else fired at him. He sighed heavily and lurched back into the woods and set fire to that area. He was completely dry, spent, as he exited the woods, giving a glare all around at anyone else that wants to mess with him. They were all just lucky that the place the circle was drawn is inaccessible for vehicles coming from the base – but available for the normal, non-military controlled highway beyond, that remained out of sight. Otherwise they'd get unwanted company really quick.

Dean's side fan quirked to the side, eyes squinting into the woods, detecting movement but seeing as how it wasn't shooting at them, ignored it again. Probably a friendly that ran into them, or an animal. Either way, if it wasn't going to mess with him, he'll just leave it be.

Dean climbed up the short rise to the area, coming at it from the different way to throw off the trackers, and drank a little from a very, very small trickle of water that left the main river in the woods. Sucking the thin stream dry and swallowing hard. He lapped at the remaining puddles and formed a thin stream of saliva, mustered up the remaining of his flammable spray to do a very wide circle around their group, making sure that they wont be interrupted. He had to resort to biting his tongue to throw up some of the liquid as well towards the end of the circle. His stomach ached from the voluntary vomit. Wondering if he would ever have his flammable spray again. Dry from the inside out. The only place he didn't get to was the road leading to the Impala. Dean nearly collapsed when he got to the circle, taking a deep breath and holding it as he entered the circle and stood just long enough to get close to his mother. He laid down, half asleep from sheer exhaustion and feeling like the bug that hit the windshield.

He found himself mumbling, 'Man I don't want to do this again.' before catching himself and giving his mother a innocent but tired smile. 'Everything's gonna be fine. Just don't leave this circle.'

She was about to ask why when a feeling of warm fire lit inside her body, instead of it being painful, it was actually very nice and could see a similar look of pleasure on his face. She found herself feeling like she was dizzy, falling down and sliding forward backwards, to the left and right at the same time. Collapsing in on herself and could see her boy slowly getting farther and farther away from her, head lolling. Strange words were being spoken by one of the old bipeds and it felt as if it was embedded into her very soul. As they slid away from each other and everything around them, she was worried and fearful. She just realized that she might not make it and didn't even know what to call out to her son. His name. Surely he received a name by now, or if nothing else, what his original name was. She felt another wave hit the two of them and the world was getting bigger all around them. She had to breath fast or else her lungs felt like they were going to explode inside her. She tried to focus on something. Names. Her boy kept on calling her Mother, not once by her name, the others from the bad place called her Eve, besides Meg. She might as well introduce herself properly now, since they might not get another chance. 'My name isn't Eve, it's Cricket.' she shouted over. She could see her boy strain to lift his head and he grinned peacefully.

'My name's D- ' and then blackness hit. Dragging them down into nothingness as the world slid away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry! sorry sorry sorry ..... sorry.
> 
> He did die! it's jus that no one stays dead on Supernatural.  
> Kudos if you liked it, comments if you wanna inform me of how awful I am to the boys. lol.  
> we are coming up to the end of the fic in the next few chapters, I've already gotten a bit part written for the sequel so don't worry about never seeing the boys again!


	38. There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jody and Donna run across a tired Dean and watch as strange events unfold.  
> Itty Bitty pair of Drauglins make some big discoveries, then even bigger events when they get to be the biggest beings around. Mom meets Dean's Mate and the moon is on the rise.

Chapter 38

There'll be Peace when You are Done

 

 

Jody held out her hand, stopping Donna from going further. The trek back to the base took some time. All the while they heard roars, howls and crashes up ahead. Both were worried they would be too late to help. They stopped when Jody saw movement in a clearing just ahead. Spike was walking slowly through the trees, looking like utter hell. Their hearts lurched at the sight. Spike was bleeding everywhere, bruises showing up from under his dry scales. Blood pooled under some of the partially loosened scales signaling that he had been holding onto the old skin for too long. They could guess why. The extra layer of hardened scales probably helped during the fight but it might have also hindered his maneuverability. Once the old scales part from his body, they harden drastically turning into a stone like armor with the lack of moisture from his body. Similar to a hard scab versus pliant skin on a human. He dragged his side against some trees, loosening the already loose scales a little more without just laying down and rubbing them off completely. Like he was debating if he should do it now or later, but still scratching an annoying itch. 

Neither one of them said a word. Both remembering the cruel way the others at the base had removed his outer and inner layers of scales. Basically skinning him alive with knives and saws without even checking to see if that's what Spike wanted or needed. Checking his vital readouts and video when they were nearing the end, proved that Spike was in intense pain but unable to stop them. Shot up with the dragon herb enough to incapacitate him but not enough to dull the pain. 

Watching the huge tan and brown dragon now, they understood that the natural way of doing it was vastly different then what they expected. Spike was mainly coaxing the old scales off instead of scraping. Stretching his body out while some scales were pinned to a hard surface to loosen up the connecting edges for each one. He stopped himself from letting instincts take over and finishing the job.

Spike paused and breathed heavily for a few seconds, looking up and away at a spot ahead of him. As if composing himself before being seen. Donna felt a little guilty for spying on him in this private moment. Spike looked worried and tired and in _pain_. The weariness practically bleeding from him. He sucked in a breath and stood up a little straighter, wincing at the way the old scales pulled at the wounds. He itched at one and a few scales fell off to the ground but he must not have noticed because he started walking forward again. Holding back as many hints of pain as possible for whoever he was meeting up there. 

Jody took a step forward and flinched when her foot slipped out from under her and she caught herself a second later with Donna's hand that shot out to keep her from falling further. Both shot their gaze upwards at the great dragon that stopped suddenly, head swiveling around to their general location and ears perking, rotating. He was clearly holding his breath, waiting for another sound but relaxed when nothing happened. Or maybe, he was debating if it was worth the effort to investigate. Thankfully he had bigger things on his mind because after another few seconds of listening and scanning, he kept on walking. 

They followed after him and were surprised that even though they couldn't be quiet, it seemed like Spike wasn't concerned with them. The sounds of skirmish were everywhere in the woods. They recognized the voices of their fellow soldiers and strangers all shouting orders and calls back and forth. Spike had help, it seems. 

Spike made a little detour and drank from a small stream, lapping up the thin trickle of water and it was clear to anyone that he was so parched, whining nearly inaudibly at the lack of a good drink. He dragged his tongue along the wet rocks and kept on walking with a slight limp.

They crept closer when they heard growls and rumbles in a small clearing. A black car was parked closely and they got down on their stomachs to watch as Spike couldn't keep up the rouse of being healthy so he imperceptibly shrugged and was staggering forward, chirping and rumbling something while looking straight over, close to the tree tops instead of down at the people on the ground. They were both startled as hell to hear a replying chirp and rumbles from Eve. Somehow they'd already managed to free the mother dragon from her cage and bring her out here.

Jody and Donna had missed nearly everything. Someone was laying on the ground and being tended to by a short brunette lady and an older gentleman with a cane. The man was actually talking to Spike and Spike was now looking to Eve. A tall black man was now visible, standing ahead of her and motioning towards the clearing, making a hand gesture that probably meant, 'Stay'. Jody got to her hands and knees to get a better view of the clearing and was shocked to see a simply gigantic circle in it. Strange writing and symbols were everywhere and it looked as though the people were avoiding standing on the circle, but they wanted Eve to stay right in the center. 

Spike assessed the area and started laying out a wide circle of flammable saliva around the entire clearing except for a space big enough for the black car to drive out. Towards the end, he was seen heaving into the dirt, all liquid from his stomach and mouth being spat out to get as far as possible with making the future fire circle. 

Donna's stomach lurched at the sight. Spike was so thirsty already but gave what little he had to make a protective ring around their group. Warding against intruders. He didn't ignite it however, probably expecting the people to do it if they needed it lit. 

Spike then sighed heavily and entered the circle alongside his mother. Collapsing bonelessly to the ground next to her as if someone had cut his puppet strings. He chirped something to himself and gave a look to his mother which might have been trying to convey reassurance but not fooling anyone. Eve looked even more on edge but before she could rumble a response both of them were hit by something invisible. As if a wave of calmness swept them off their feet and to the ground. Eyes rolling and a purr coming from both massive bodies. A soft glow emanating from the two dragons and the circles marks.

The ground swirled dirt and light debris around the circle's edges and they heard the older man's voice recite something from an old book. A clay bowl with some stuff in it was on fire with a blue flame being held by the black man. The younger man on the ground and the brunette lady were shielding their eyes from the display and from where Jody and Donna were, they could understand why. The air was getting thick outside of the circle from all of the dust being kicked up. It settled a little and they were shocked to see the two massive dragons actually shrinking! Both were sliding inwards and defying all sense of logic as they were nearly hyperventilating as they shrunk. When they got to be the size of cats, Eve called something over to Spike and Spike started to respond when a secondary wave hit both of them from all sides. The old man stuttering in his recitation before starting up again loudly. A determined look on his face to continue as sweat dripped from his face and neck. The pause must have been caused by the dragon's talking to each other. Distracting him for a second to see if they were in pain or something went wrong.

The black man shouted something to the injured one that looked like he was about to run to the dragon's aide, “Stay back, Sam! It can't be interrupted or else y'all will be killed!”

The injured man, Sam, fell to his side, all attention on the tan dragon as both dragons got smaller and smaller. Clearly Sam wanted to run to Spike's aide but kept himself back, half from orders, the other half from his injuries. One arm clutching his chest as he panted with some exertion. 

The two dragons were hardly seen now from their positions in the shrubs. The flames died out from the bowl and smoke swirled towards the circle lazily. The old man quieted his foreign speech and took the bowl from the black man and set it aside on the hood of the black car. Apparently it was done. No one moved closer for at least a minute as the sounds of battle continued to rage on inside the base. 

The old man spoke up next, and now that he didn't have to shout to be heard, Jody and Donna were able to make out what was said. “Sam? You alright?”

“Don't worry about me, Bobby, get him out of there. I think something went wrong. He's too small.”

The black man had a grim line to his mouth as he cautiously approached the center of the circle, heading towards where Eve was while the one named Bobby went to Spike. He hunched down and held out his hands carefully. Cupping something in them and bringing it to his chest, peering down with a gentleness that was a stark contrast to the fire and brimstone voice he used during the strange speech. 

Donna turned her head slightly but kept her eyes peeled to the black man doing the same to where Eve had been, cupping something very small with care. “Jody,” she whispered, paused, not quite sure what to ask or say at first, “Did they just...”

“Looks like.” Jody whispered back. 

Sam had gotten to his feet by then and used the brunette lady to help him walk.

“That's Megan!” Donna exclaimed in a surprised whisper just this side of a strained shout. She quieted herself and murmured into Jody's ear, “Megan was the snack lady. Spunky little thing that worked the evening shifts. No one really talked to her but she seemed real nice. She was always nice to me when I saw her in the halls, I guess she was their inside man, er, woman.”

Jody had a tinge of emotion run through her at the thought of a traitor at the base but then remembered herself and that they were also considered traitors for what they were doing and planned to do. Their attention went back to the people all huddled around the two pairs of cupped hands. 

Sam spoke first, “I can carry him. Them.” he nodded to Megan and she grinned back. A wordless agreement that she would help him out. Sam's hands reached forward and first Bobby then the other man gingerly dropped off their little bundles into Sam's waiting hands. He cupped them together and made his hands into a kind of cocoon for the little things. Bobby put a hand to Sam's shoulder, and even though he was limping himself as well, took up Sam's other side. Both he and Megan guiding him to the backseat of the car and easing him in behind the driver's side. Megan slipping in on the other side of the rear bench seat. Bobby then surveyed the area, starting a walk around the circle and kicking dirt around to disrupt the pattern as he gazed outward into the woods. The black man doing the same on the other side of the circle, getting rid of the evidence. He grabbed the clay bowl, pulled out a charred lighter and pocketed it before unceremoniously dumping out the contents into the weeds. 

Jody and Donna stayed perfectly still as the men crossed paths in front of their hiding place. They didn't risk moving a single muscle as the two older men stood just a couple dozen feet away. 

Bobby nodded at the site. “Looks good. I don't think we'll need to set fire to his ring. There's already enough of his fires in the woods down there.”

“Yup. Plenty of things to keep them occupied. Shame he had to use up so much of his juice. Now let's get out of here and grab the kids.” The black one said and shook his head as they walked back to the car, cursing along the way when he remembered something, “I can't believe Dean totaled my truck!” shooting Sam an accusing glare. “Your brother is gonna owe me big time for taking off with my truck into the sky, setting fire to it, and dropping it like that only to have it blown to smithereens by the marines! How the hell can I explain that one to my insurance?”

Bobby interrupted the tirade, “Not marines, ya idjit. And you put insurance on a hunting truck?”

“Of course I put insurance on it! Some of us are responsible adults with more then just one job!” And bent down to glare at Sam. “Soon as he wakes up, tell your brother he owes me a truck on top of the coffee table he burned to ashes.” and got into the passenger side. 

“Would ya give it a rest, Rufus? Dean didn't have a choice.” Bobby admonished and got into the driver's seat. The argument continued from there but was too muffled to discern much more as the car roared to life and drove out of the clearing away from the two hiding women.

Jody and Donna waited for another minute or so. Digesting all the information and revelations that were just exposed. They just looked at each other then the recently vacated space ahead of them before tentatively getting to their feet. The circle was gone, in its place was torn up scrub and dirt. The sticky residue from an unignited dragon spray and tire treads. 

“You got the license plate?” Donna asked. 

“KAZ 2Y5.” Jody said and shook her head a little. “Spike's name is Dean. And he's got a human brother named Sam. Sam saved his brother, and then helped him save his dragon mother. And then they just... shrunk them both. Two fifty foot tall dragons are now small enough for a single hand.”

“Weird right?” Donna practically chirped with a grin on her face. They saw several of their fellow soldiers not too far away from their position, band together and track the dragons footprints into the wooded area and find the circle. Donna and Jody made up their minds and exited the woods, waving their hands. They would lead that group away from where the car went. Helping them escape and buying them some time to get miles away from this place. After things calm down, both ladies were already planning on tracking them down later to properly thank Dean for saving their lives in the woods from friendly fire.

 

Cricket slowly came back into awareness. Not quite awake, but getting there. Some muffled but getting louder voices were heard, a couple of them she recognized, most however, weren't. Pressure appeared on the back of her head, gentle but insistent, like a force of nature pushing her carefully on her neck just enough to make it move forward a bit. The ridged roundish thing trailed along down her spine towards her tail and then started again at her head then back on down. The movement would have been considered comforting if it weren't for the size of the rounded thing moving along her whole spine from her head to the tip of her tail. She willed herself awake faster, able to twitch her head away from the force of the next prod. The pressure was removed with a sound like sand sliding off a rock and the pressure landed on her back and legs. Not crushing by any means, but unrelenting all the same. Secure. A warmth was felt through it and she found herself cuddling up to it just a bit. 

More sounds. A deep rumbling constantly under her feet. She'd once experienced the earth quaking under her feet, when she was still growing up with Ness, but this was different. This was like the earth was jumping and lurching under her, but she rested on something warm and soft, minimizing the bumps, but the vibrations and sounds from the earth quaking and bucking unexpectedly remained as a constant background noise.

A whimper escaped her when the pressure remained and she couldn't move from under it. The loud roars heard from somewhere underneath her bed changed nearly imperceptibly like the earth was grating itself on something smoother, fewer jumps into the air. She wondered if she was inside a cave that was sliding slightly down a hill, the caves ground rubbing along another layer of rock. A lifetime spent in caves and staring at the different layers of rock running in lines along all the walls. Some layers softer then others, easier to dig out to form shelves inside the caves. The feel of one of the flat rocks falling off of another with her on it, riding it down the hill, grinding along another was similar to the sound and feeling of her current surroundings. But her flat rock ride of her childhood and whatever was happening now was different. This time, it's not nearly as rough of a ride, but it is taking a whole lot longer.

'It's ok, Mom, uh, I mean, Cricket.' her boy said, she could feel his hand appear suddenly on hers, rubbing soothingly. 'Pulled onto the highway instead of gravel.' he explained as if the words were normal. She was glad that he was still alive and sounded relatively calm despite them being in danger.

'What's going on, are you alright? What happened in the clearing? Why is it so loud here?'

The clawed hand rubbed along her shoulder, feeling her position out through touch, but also checking to make sure she's ok. She realized he couldn't see either. She could feel his hand trail down to where the pressure was on her legs and side. He sighed a little and shoved at the thing and it released her. She shuffled weakly away from whatever it was an into her boy's side. Feeling him out to make sure he was safe as well. The warmth of the thing had been nice, but she'd like to know what it was first before it pinned her down like that again. 

'Guys? Little space? She's not gonna take this well.' he said which made her nervous by itself. The whole ground shifted again and she dug her clawed hands and feet in and found that the ground had some give to it. She eased up her claws and the ground returned to its shape. Dirt and plants don't do that. It felt like that thing that was trailing down her spine earlier. 

She tried rubbing her eyes to make them open faster. A tired fog still covering her mind up, keeping her in a dazed state. 'Dee? What's going on?' she tried to focus but the world was still stubbornly a blur. A breeze was blowing past them and then moving the other direction. Rhythmically changing directions. Back and forth, but had a scent to it she couldn't readily identify.

Her boy huff laughed, his hand joined by another and a gentle head bump. Like he was feeling out where she was, how her body was angled to avoid poking out her eye with his forehead. He rubbed his smooth cheek on her side for a second to sooth her nerves like a cat would. A sentimental motion that actually relaxed her. His hand fumbled downwards and found her arm, trailing his hand to hers. His body shifting to face her a little better. She could only tell by the sounds and feelings of his movements that affected the ground they were both apparently on. She felt a little at ease knowing that at least he was with her here. Wherever, and whatever, here was, or is. Her head hurt. The warm leathery ground jumped slightly again.

'My name isn't Dee, it's Dean. And sometimes, well, it's Dane.' he rubbed her hand again. A deep sigh and then inhale, like he was preparing to say something important. Pressure formed next to her as something very large and soft brushed up against her side. The same thing as before that had had her pinned down. Her boy, Dean's wing shoved it aside and she marveled at how strong he was to move whatever it was completely away. It didn't move as easily for her as it did for her boy. His wing was right there, covering up her side instead, wrapping around her securely. She could hear him growl curtly at someone that was overhead. 'Sam. Let me.'

'Sam, that's your brother's name. Is he alright? I didn't...' she started and rephrased, 'I am sorry I hurt him.' Asking if she did was a moot point since it was obvious that she had literally tried to _kill him_ in front of everyone. 'Please tell him I'm sorry?'

'Sammy, she says she's sorry.' Dean said upwards again. She wondered if Sam had scaled a tree since she last saw the little one, but startled when she heard and felt a massive rumble all around her. A gust of air more focused then the soft breeze hit them with a faint scent of peanuts. 'Dude, did you have trail mix?'

Another ground shaking rumble and the ground shifted to the side and back again. The air blowing past them obnoxiously now like a gust and a quick juddering motion that stopped as fast as it started. The scent overwhelming the two in their spot like that's all the world consisted of now. Her heartbeat quickened and she struggled to dislodge her boy's wing and hand grip. It was clear that he still couldn't see or move easily either. 

'Cricket? Mom? It's ok, it's just Sammy saying he forgives you. We understand why you reacted that way with him earlier. No one blames you. You're safe. He's not gonna hurt you. None of us are.' the rumbling started again and then some other thing rumbled somewhat close and far away at the same time. It sounded like Meg, but amplified a hundred times.

'Meg's here too.' Dean confirmed and Cricket started to panic a little. Her eyes finally started to open more then a crack but it was just light and color, no forms or shapes. Her head started to hurt from trying to focus her attention to everything at once. Scents were getting stronger too, the prevalent one of _Sam_ was nearly all consuming. She could just barely make out Meg's scent but once she did, realized how much of it surrounded them. Far more then one biped could produce unless they were actually inside her damned nose. 

'What's going on?! Why are they so _loud_?' she looked all around her but everything was still a blur. 'Why can't I see?'

'It's ok, I can't see very well either. It will come back in a minute.' Dean breathed for a second then said, 'Ok, gonna try and explain what happened. That circle thing we were in? It was a spell. A kind of... thing.. that makes things shrink. Other circles and spells do other things, that one shrank us down to about the same size as rats.' A rumble from overhead again. A quick lift and drop of the very ground they laid on jolted Cricket into crouching down in fear. 

Dean continued on like he was used to the ground acting like that. 'What? Oh that's just fu- brilliant. _Brilliant_ , Sam.' Dean snorted and sighed, agitated but she could tell it wasn't aimed towards his brother. Another rumble, longer this time. Dean shifted a little, aiming towards where the gusts of peanut flavored wind was still coming from. Another jerk of ground before it tilted slightly downwards, but thankfully not enough to make them loose their balance. She guessed the reason why she couldn't hear Sam's voice was because it couldn't get past the deafening rumbles. Dean must have the little biped close to his ear. Dean carried on the one sided conversation. 'I know, I know, but ya should have... never-mind.' Dean's wing twitched in annoyance and he addressed her again, 'He says we are the same size as mice. Not rats like last time. Sam says it's because I grew when I was small so the reverse of proportion part of the spell made us _extra small_. As small as they were to us, we are to them now. I could fit three of them in my hand so... yeah. _Mice._ ' Dean huffed but sensed the rising feelings she had beside him, hastily saying, 'But don't panic!' he insisted, holding her in his arms and wings, nuzzling her side. 'I was small not long ago. Granted, not quite _this tiny_ , but still. We did it so that we can ride in their cars easier, get further away from the bad guys. _I promise we're safe_.'

Cricket started hyperventilating a little as it all was sinking in. ' _We're little??_ ' she exclaimed between clipped breaths. Not one of them filling her lungs. 

Apparently less accustomed to weird then her boy, she just couldn't wrap her head around it. And she had seen some things in her day. Great metal beasts that flew in the air and rolled on the ground. Long poles in some bipeds hands that shot sparks of painful lightning from the ends. Images of things that weren't really there were on one of the cage walls. Those Meg had put up there somehow, showing different images of her biped brother and of places that Meg insisted existed. Meg called them birthday parties, houses, and bars. One looked like a great snake being held up by sticks all along its belly that she called a roller coaster ride and pointed out her and her brother riding the snake's back. But all of those crazy things happened to Meg, not Cricket. She had to take the girl's word on it. But this... who ever heard of making things _smaller_? Making them as little as _mice_?? Mice were barely even visible to beings such as them.

She did recall seeing her boy get further and further away in the circle, but never guessed it was because they were _shrinking_! She just thought she was under the influence of that liquid injection the soldiers gave her sometimes. It made the world shift and her head swim. Different from the pain numbing plant. 

Somehow her boy seemed to be alright with the idea of being so minuscule, fragile. Like it wasn't life threatening and terrifying. Her eyesight started clearing up and the first thing she saw was Dean blinking just as much, eyes going wide and squinting at random moments, trying to focus on her and their surroundings. His hand rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly.

'Can you see me?' he asked timidly. Dean looked far up at something behind her, causing her to shiver in fear. There were things were that big to them now. 'Sammy? Little space?' Dean then turned towards a large black thing behind himself. 'Guys? All the windows rolled up?' he got a couple of different rumbles from behind the black wall like thing that rose into the gray shadowed sky. Some blocks of blue and white light blurs were seen to the sides and massive shapes started to form all around. 'Mom? Don't freak out. Ok? They aren't gonna hurt you. Look at me, do I seem scared?'

She had to hold her breath a few times, panic bubbling up from within and she felt Dean's wings lift up from around her to cup her cheeks and force her to look at him straight in the eyes and nothing else. The pleading look told the whole thing, he was fine, he was just freaking out because _she_ was freaking out. She noticed that he was now just slightly larger then her. She darted her eyes up and saw a massive upside down face overhead, jolting out of his grip and scrambling forwards to get away from the colossal monster. She fell off of the wide ground and onto one that was rougher beneath her feet. Hardly giving it a second glance when she realized she had been in a huge hand this whole time. Sam's _hand_. Sam's hand that was big enough for her and her son to fit in. She backed up further, whimpering at the thought of how huge everything was. Dangerous. Sam could kill her with a flick of his fingers!

'No! Wait! There's a drop off!' Dean shouted alarmed, only vaguely able to see where everyone and everything is. He sighed exasperatedly and shouted up, 'Sammy! Grab her but don't like _grab her_ grab her, ok?' he stumbled towards her fleeing shape, jumping down from the resting hand as well, heading towards the other Drauglin's fleeing shape. 'Mom! Stop!'

Sam lifted up both his hands and arched them over the two before positioning them a few inches from the edge of the seat. He splayed out his fingers, keeping her corralled onto the seat while Meg was scooting back a little from the two very sharp bundles of monster that kept on moving around next to her. Like mice with cactus sharp needles. Worry for her friends' sake as well as her own skin as one swipe of tail or talon could leave a lasting scar.

Cricket tripped over herself from the huge hands that landed on the ground behind her, she scrambled away from them now, pausing for just a second to see where she could run to next. A wall of blue was off to the side and Sam slowly brought his hands down and gently cupped them around Cricket's lower half, letting her head and neck through the hole his thumbs and forefingers made as she kept on looking up and around everywhere. The hands inched underneath her and picked her up again, gentle but unyielding as they brought her to the top of the blue wall to rest on it. Sam grunted a little from the movement, more then the strain of lifting up her body. The hand over top remained there, keeping her from escaping. Dean was no longer next to her but nearby, free of the hands. 

Cricket kept herself from outright attacking because now that her eyesight was getting clearer by the second, she could see that just one biped was able to hold her down and there were at least four in this moving room with her. He breath came in short gasps and she finally saw her boy sitting on the ground close by, wings flapping, lowering down slowly, repeatedly to calm her down. She looked up and sure enough, the little biped that she had in her mouth was now the one that had her helpless and trapped in his hands. Sam was still coated in her now dried saliva, it looked like it caked on, probably itchy as hell, peeling up at cracks made in it where his skin crinkled and moved the most. The dried coating must not be thick enough for the wide nails to flick off. Sam restrained himself from fidgeting or scratching at its thin coating on his skin. Or maybe he was still too tired. He gently held her down and was looking to Dean for orders.

Cricket looked back at Dean as well. The huge biped that was holding her at his mercy was taking orders from someone who was just about as small as she was. The trust for both involved must be very great for her boy to be out in the open like this. If she were able, she would find the nearest hiding place, away from these colossal terrors. Sam made some more of those very loud rumbling noises and Dean nodded after looking at her for a moment. Then the hands lifted and laid at the sides but still at the ready should she try anything. She just now looked down and figured out that she was actually on Sam's lap, made of bent legs along with Dean who perched himself closer to the knees. Both of them fit on just one leg with plenty of room to spare. There wasn't enough flame spray in the world to take Sam out if he decided to hurt them. She wondered if she could ignite what was already on the god-like biped even though it was mostly dried... but he didn't look angry or vengeful. Just... _worried_. The scents coming from all around her confirmed it. 

Sam leaned back with a pained wince and looked like he wanted to go back to sleep. Her fear of Sam dwindled now that he was more or less just acting like a bed first and Guardian second. No hatred or hunger in that face, no cruel tooth filled smile that he had seen in her not too long ago. She was now small enough to be eaten by the biped. A thought that was very unnerving and made her stare at that mouth that hung slightly open, breathing with a slight rattle in his lungs now that she was listening closer. Not all of the rumblings were from the moving room. It was from Sam's body copping with the damage that was done to it. It almost sounding like he was fighting off a virus or cold. Too weak to do much more then breath and prop himself up.

Her fears of him were gradually being dismissed. Sam could barely keep his eyes open and breaths even. He was still in a lot of pain. She knew that neither brother would hurt the other, and since Dean was standing up for her, must mean that Sam would listen. The biped could kill her with the greatest of ease right now and she would be utterly powerless to stop him. If his hand simply rested fully on her, he could crush her bones. She shot looks at the digits as they relaxed again as Sam drifted off to sleep. One of the large hazel eyes peeking open just enough to watch his own right arm come up and over to hug his left side, wrapping around bruises and probably cracked ribs. Settling down into the seat again and breathing through the pain in his chest and stomach.

A rumble left Sam's slack mouth and he licked his dry lips before settling down, legs splaying a bit and jostling the two passengers.

Dean blinked a few more times, worried looks shooting up to Sam's face every few seconds. Dean laid down again once Sam was clearly asleep. Absently rubbing his hand along the long blue covered leg underneath them. Soothing his gigantic little brother any way he can. Cricket felt the love between the brothers and cursed herself again for even thinking of hurting them.

Then a look to her right at a more feminine rumbling sound made her focus on the other biped on their platform. Cricket recognized her fairly quickly. The new angle and sheer size against her at first. 'Meg!' she chirped but Meg didn't show any sign that she was able to understand her, just like old times they would have to talk without intelligible speech. 

Dean didn't even try to translate, just grinned at Meg who settled a bit in her seat. Now that the excitement of discovery was over, Meg split her attention back between her phone which kept on chirping, 'flower petal' at her in perfect dragon speech, and looking out the window to where they were going.

Cricket was about to ask more questions when Dean interrupted with the answers. 'I can understand English, but only my Mate and my brother can understand me. It was another one of those spells I was talking about. They did it so we could chat easier. Before, we were using sign language, it's a kind of way of talking using your hands and fingers. I don't know how long the spell will last. It may crap out in five minutes, or ten years from now. It was meant for more traditional mammals and humans. And we are uh, decidedly _not_.'

Now that Cricket was getting a handle on the situation, she spoke with her son. Loving the fact that they could finally converse like this, that he wasn't dead or being tortured. She could teach him again. 'Honey, our kind has been around before mammals, don't you feel the history in your bones?'

Dean shook his head dumbly. He could barely work with the facts now, never-mind history. Maybe Dane feels it... he is the more Drauglin of the two. What's Dane going to think of all this? Is he gonna be pissed they're even smaller then anticipated? Does he still want to talk to her? He was just about to ask when he saw Cricket cock her head at him due to his rapidly changing expressions and scents. 'I was just uh, thinking how you might want to meet your son again. I mean, I am... kinda, but he is, uh, _completely._ He's the real Drauglin side, I was just the catalyst. I feel human, like I was before this. It's pretty hard for me to feel anything but. But Dane, he's all dragon. Erm, Drauglin. He wants to talk to you.' At the deeper confusion he clarified, 'Our mind split. A couple of times, heh, and uh, it's like there's several of us sharing the same body. Here, I'll show ya.' he said and went quiet for a moment, head bowing down a little.

Silence filled the car and Cricket thought he fell asleep in mid sentence until he looked up at her again. The warmth and love shining through those eyes made her sway in place. The posture straightened up and the Drauglin before her grinned too wide, elated. 'Hello Mother.' He said, same voice but different, more reverence. 'It has been a long time. I am sorry that we had to trick you, you would not have wanted to do the spell otherwise.' He bowed his head a little. 'Mother, I just wanted to say, that I love you, I never forgot about you. Even Dean cares deeply for you. His first mother died in a fire and you found him and became his second mother. But to me, you are all mine, and I wish...' he floundered a little. Dean told him the plan, as well as the back up plans, and none of the potential futures for them were as certain as it was for their mother since she never split. Even if she did split consciousness now, it wouldn't matter as much as them because they'd been separated in that head for nearly their whole Drauglin life. Right at the moment that Sam and Bobby showed up at his nest when he was a nestling. Memories of his old life crowding in and changing him. Now that he and Dean are show and telling, memories of the time when the hybrid was the ruler are bleeding into both of them. Dane doubted the hybrid even existed anymore. Or maybe, he and Dean would become the hybrid again if they lost themselves in each other. Becoming too close. It was a possibility. At least Dean, for all of his pros and cons, was still a good guy in the end. Dane just hoped that he could say the same for himself when this is all over. One way or another. He just didn't want to be alone anymore. Dane felt that Dean was feeling the same. Not just now, but all the time. 

'I wish, that you choose to go with us, after we get you back to your home.' Dane said, his eyes wet. It shouldn't be up to him what his mother chooses to do. If she chooses to stay a Drauglin, she and he would go probably to the island together. If she chooses to return to humanity, she would go with Dean and he would be left to travel alone or try and stay hidden in the forest he was born in. Or find another way. Dane wasn't sure what he'd prefer his mother chooses. 

Cricket didn't exactly know what to say. Dean was now apparently Dane, a full Drauglin. In control of his body, speech, and attitude. Dean seemed to be constantly struggling, to speak, move, act. He really didn't fit in as a Drauglin. But Dane, he knew what he was, who he was. It was natural. Effortless. Even his scent changed a little. More in tune with nature. A different kind of strength in each. But both had this under-layer of sadness. Loneliness. Dane seemed to hide it a little better, maybe it was just Dean's side leaking through. The thought of two beings inside one body... how could they cope? She looked at the man in front of her. Strong and kind. He'd be able to make it on his own if he was free of all biped ties. Dane would come into his own if given the chance. She was sure of it. He's just unsure right now. The indecision will pass. Dane will find his own strengths. 

This was her real boy, Dean.. was... not. Not entirely. She could now see the difference and remembered how Dean was when he was a biped. She was startled into feeling guilty, she took Dean away from his little brother. When Dean was a biped, he wasn't playing with her earlier, on that cliff side, he was fighting to stay alive. He never wanted this life. And now that she thought about the other offspring, she could see that they were fighting her too. They'd given their all to get away from her but she was too powerful, blind in her ambition to turn those people into her offspring. She expected them to be fearful as all small things were, and ignored that scent. It was only natural to be scared of things bigger then them, she wanted to save them from a short life of fear.

A new troubling thought occurred to her. Was she like them? Was she once a biped too? Her mind often swam with thoughts and ideas that seemed to come out of nowhere, what if that was from her old life? Dane was suddenly there, hands on her shoulders as he sat in front of her, ducking his head down to look her in the eyes.

'Mother?' he worriedly chirped. 'Are you alright?'

She pulled away from him. 'I... I'm so sorry. Dean, Dane... so, so so very sorry... I did this to you, him. He never wanted this. I changed him into something he never wanted.' her eyes went to Meg who was simply watching the two. 'Meg told me that her brother would be forced to turn dragon and how much she didn't want that for him or for her. I thought she was crazy, who wouldn't want to be like us?' she started huff laughing a little hysterically. 'I did this. I ruined your life.' She backed up from him. 'Those girls, my baby girls, I was going to raise them... be there for them. But they never wanted it. The screaming wasn't nervous excitement, it was _terror_. I wanted to take that fear away... I was the one giving it to them.' She stared off into the middle distance. Looking up at the sleeping brother. How huge he seems to her, how fearful she still is of him. He's not even conscious right now and he's freaking her out. This is like her children looking up at her, before she turned them into something else. They had no chance against her. It was actually kind of funny how it took this new diminished perspective to help her see how wrong she was. 'I should have used animals. Like Phoenix and Ness. They were from the sky and sea before they turned into my siblings. I was... I was from the land, I walked with another man, on two legs. Kazz... no... his Drauglin name was Kazz, his _real_ name was... James. My real name was Missouri.' Tears started to flow from her eyes. 'My name isn't Cricket. It was Mi... Missouri... _Missouri_.' She sobbed and laid down in Dane's arms, ' _Misery._ ' she cried and Dean came forward, holding onto her and stroking her cheeks free of the tears.

'It's ok. It's alright, Mom.' Dean felt himself tremble along with her. They got through to her, without even trying. It was a great relief to know that she was human and remembered her past, but also, that she knew what she'd done. She would not do it again. 'Mom? Cricket?' he asked after her sobs slowed. 'I know most of us Drauglin's weren't originally humans. You just didn't see the difference in using people over animals. _I understand, and don't blame you for it.'_ Dean took a breath and chirped a little optimistically, 'I think we turned out alright.' He shrugged a little, trying to make her feel a little better.

'But... you - ' she stammered, trying to piece her thoughts together, 'you left me.' Eyes shining with tears. 'You liked it? At least.. a little? Being with me...'

Dean closed his eyes. He wasn't conflicted on the matter, he just didn't want to be a Drauglin anymore. Sure he felt strong, invincible sometimes, but, he couldn't live like this. Hunt his own food, mate with other dragons. It's just not him. He wants to be human again. 'I...' no sense lying to her. She needs to hear the second part of their escape plan. 'I want to be human again. And if you want, we can make you human again too.'

She squinted at him. This was insane. No Drauglin has ever been changed into anything else. Of course, no Drauglin had ever been shrunk before, but here they are. Apparently Dean had been shrunk before and it had been temporary. Maybe they could do it. Become bipe- _human_ again. But did she want to do it?

Dean patted her shoulder, 'You don't have to decide right now. But, the time is coming up pretty soon. We have one day. Half of it is now spent driving to Freedersville. We've already put a lot of miles between the base and there. Get there in no time. And I'll tell ya what. Once Sammy and I are all monkey suited up, we can go in and have some of our people turn it into a wildlife preserve. A forged document here, petition there, and boom, _Sanctuary_. There will be no Hunters of either kind in your woods. It will be left for animals and nature alone. Any human caught inside will be arrested. The base you were kept at is under attack right now, they wont be able to hunt you down again if you decide to stay in Harkade valley. Uh, that's the name of your forest home. Once we get there, we are going to do the spell to change me back into a human, and uh, you as well if you want us to. We will of course have to grow large again, so don't worry about having to hide from squirrels.' Dean huffed a laugh to lighten the chat. 'It shouldn't take as long this time around as it did for me last time because Sammy here word fumbled up the reversal.' He jabbed at the leg under them. The movement too small to be noticed by the human, they weren't sure if that was comforting or not. Don't poke the bear, or being too small to even matter to the bear. Dean shook his head, getting back on topic. 'When the reversal spell is done the right way, it should be just as fast as when we went down. And then we can even start right away on the big one. The one that brings us back.'

Cricket seemed to be listening but also not. Drifting a little in her mind.

'I'll uh, let you think about it. In the meantime, are you hungry? We got hot dogs!' Dean chirped and looked down at the floor of the car, climbing down the pant leg to the floor well. Sounds of claws on plastic were heard and then some teeth chomping off a portion of meat from the rest. Dean used his wings to help him laboriously climb back up with a very large brown thing in his mouth. Twice as long as his head. Meg had caught on to his intentions but didn't interrupt him and squash his pride. He was doing fine on his own. Showing off for his mom no doubt. 

Meg lifted up another hot dog from the torn package and laid it in front of Cricket who backed up a wary step. The thing was as big as a tree but apparently made of an animal. It was anyone's guess what it once was... Meg didn't seem to take offense at the confused and slightly disturbed look Cricket was giving the log of mystery meat, and just grinned at her. Meg soon went back to looking out the window and messing with a large flat black thing that was obsessed with chirping the words, flower petals.

Dean finished off the meat and sighed happily. He scratched at an itch and remembered something he wanted to do for awhile now. He figured it would make a nice little keepsake when he gets big again. He started to rub his body against the rough denim of Sam's jeans next to him and the ground, pulling off his old outer layer of scales in as big of a piece as he could. It split more or less down his spine, Cricket helping him out once she caught on what he was going for. Getting his hands and feet without shredding the skin was tricky but worth it when they popped off like gloves. He could see it already start to harden as it dried. Looking like a lizards skin but not. Some spots missing, but for good reason, lost in battle. Already he was looking better then he had in months. The burn spots were still there, but not as big. Still numb thanks to the herb continuing its effects after the initial contact in the field. Cas was right, he got it off at the right moment before it overwhelmed him. Some bruises were seen under the new skin, but not as bad as before. Most of the minuscule bullets that lodged themselves into his hide went with the skin and a few fell down to the seat. Smaller then specks of dust to him. 

Cricket started doing her own, enjoying the feel of the under layer getting a chance to touch free and clean air. Dean helped her out as well, and when both were free of the old scales, he grabbed one at a time and tucked them into a space in the backseat where the seat belts came out of the leather. The shell of hides were still pretty small so he didn't want them smashed or damaged before he could get to them again. With _human_ fingers. His eyes looked around the dim interior of his car. His Baby. Come tomorrow, he will be able to get behind the wheel of his car and just drive. Hug his brother and not worry about Sam needing stitches afterwards. And Cas... oh the things he wants to do with Cas. Surprisingly enough, making love was on the list but it wasn't even the top anymore. He wanted to hold his hand. Put a ring on that finger. Hold him forever. Wake up with their legs tangled and complaining about morning breath. Just... _everything_. 

Dean spied the Styrofoam cup of water that was set out for them placed in the middle of a coat to keep it upright in the moving car. It spilled a little but there was plenty left for both of them to drink their fill. Once they'd shed, were fed and sated, they slept. Hard. Curled up together back in Sam's hand for warmth and some kind of protection in the moving car. The curl of fingers providing a good bowl like a nest. 

Meg for her part, was texting back and forth with Balthazar. Castiel and he were taken to a small hospital outside of the Base's watchful eyes to get checked out. They weren't planning on staying long, just enough to make sure neither was going to die from all the injuries sustained in Dean's evasive and reckless flight. Above all, Castiel needed a sturdy cast on his broken arm and none of them could stop their mission to cobble a good one up for him. The two scientists would need to sneak out right after the knockout drugs wear off. 

Since Bobby was driving, Rufus was sleeping to take the next driving shift, Sam was dead to the world and Dean and Cricket were the size of cat toys, Meg was in charge of finding a ride for Balthazar and Castiel. A driver _and_ vehicle preferably. She doubted a taxi would be an affordable option to get them to Freedersville. Thankfully the spot they picked out for the spell was just a few hours away now, they didn't need to do it directly in Harkade valley, just within flying distance for a Drauglin. If the spell was meant for anything on two legs, it would have been within regular walking distance before a rest was in order. The specifications laid out didn't count if the subject needed to sleep to continue on. So however far one could travel under their own power before collapsing. Thankfully, dealing with Drauglin's, that was pretty far if they were healthy. There were always some kinds of specifications for these kinds of things... apparently. Meg just went with it. Left the supernatural stuff to the experts and helped where she could. 

Everything was quickly coming together even though they all were or would be showing bruises or even broken bones. They can rest when it's over. Hopefully.

Meg was just happy that with Cricket out of Azazel's reach, her brother couldn't be forced into turning into a dragon. Sam and the others already filled her in on their plan to rescue Crowley and take out Azazel in one swift attack. Azazel was on the top of their shit list. They just didn't have time to do it before the Equinox. And, it would be nice if they had another trusted and experienced Hunter like Dean with his never miss shooting skills. If the monster the brothers were hunting needed to be shot with a single special bullet, it was almost always Dean behind the trigger. Sam wasn't a slacker, but Dean just had more years of training.

Bobby grumbled as he pulled his chime-chirping phone out from his pants while trying not to crash the Impala and looked at the name, handing it back to Meg to read, and text back a reply. 

“It's from someone named Ellen? She says that the base has been neutralized and the Hunters are all backing out now that conspiracy theorists are flocking to the area. Balth's crazy friends must have been successful in spilling the beans on the secret base. They'll have their hands full for years to come.” Meg giggled. 

Bobby grinned, “That's great news.” and was tempted to wake up the others but shrugged instead. Let them sleep. He hadn't heard a peep from the little Drauglin's so he figured they drifted back off to sleep as well once they got some water and food in them. They'll need the rest and full stomach. “Text her back and say that Cas and Balthazar will need a ride to where we're going. She should have an idea for breaking them out of the hospital unnoticed. Pretty sure Cas would dissect me in my sleep if I let him Miss out on Dean's transformation.” he chuckled a little. 

Meg smirked too but it faded a little. Talking about her ex-husband like this was a little stressful. Pretty soon she'll have to stand by and watch her first love see his true love in person. She kept reminding herself that she was the one to break it off, but seeing that loving look that they have for each other, makes her breath hitch sometimes. She had that once. And lost it. Her own fault. By this time tomorrow there'll be nothing standing in the way of Castiel's and Dean's love. Who'd have thought she would be helping them get there. 

“Awful quiet back there.” Bobby noted out loud. Eyes dancing between the road and Meg's own. 

“Just... thinking.” she sighed. 

Bobby nodded, adjusting his grip on the wheel. The sky was getting dark out. The list running through his head again. Changing along with the clock. 10 hours to go. 6 of them driving. 30 minutes for breaks, tops. Two hours set up because the devil's shoe-string needs to boil down to mush. Bring Dean and Cricket back to full size. Get their tracking chips out. Bone saw is in the trunk. Might need a skill saw. Moon crest we start the spell, fully shown is when the spell needs to end. Not a minute later. Need to find a place where we can see the moon come up. Throw one Drauglin in first, do spell fast, reset and get the other one in before the moon fully rises. We have minutes. Just minutes. 

Bobby frowned to himself. Finishing the list; if they're too late, calm down a pissed off Drauglin or two. Find Azazel and drain him dry for the blood spell. Drain Alistair too if we need to do it for both of them. Bobby looked at the rear view mirror again. Meg shouldn't have a problem with the Hunters killing a worthless human or two. Especially not _them_. Bobby just wondered if he's only justifying it because his boy's involved. Alistair and Azazel never actually killed a human. Shot at and injured yes, but not killed. They were useful to Hunters in figuring out how to take down monsters, but now, he's not sure if he would do that if Dean wasn't the one that got turned and needed the blood spell. Months of sleepless nights over this. And still he's no closer to coming to terms with it. Hunters don't go after people that haven't killed any humans. 

Half of the Hunters viewed Azazel's work with respect and awe. For years they depended on collectors like Azazel to figure out how to take down monsters using different methods. The only way to do that is by capturing the monsters and trying out everything and anything. The tide of compassion for non-violent monsters is slowly turning, but, many are set in their ways like Gordon had been before he turned. Anything not human needed to die. Bobby wondered if the Hunter community had heard of Gordon's current activities. The fact that he's feasting on humans. He'd have to sick the Hunters on his evil hide the second Dean and Cricket get back to walking on two legs again. Any sooner and the Hunters would just hunt Dean and his mother down with even more ferocity. Add that to the list as well. Have Ellen sic Hunters on Gordon's ass. He's flightless now, according to Sam, but he's still got size on his side. No telling how fast a Drauglin can run if they've got a reason to book it.

Bobby loosened his white knuckled grip on the wheel, spotting a gas station ahead. Grumbling to himself at how expensive the Impala can be, sucking down gas just because it's an older car model. Gas was just cheaper back in '67. His own '72 Chevelle isn't that much better for gas mileage, so he didn't voice his thoughts on the matter. At least they had a car. Rufus will have to pick out a new substitute truck from his salvage yard to replace his completely obliterated one. If Bobby is gonna claim the boys as their dad then he's gonna help them out when one of them needs to steal a truck, launch it into the stratosphere, set fire to it, then have a missal explode it while it's hurtling its merry way to the ground like a flaming meteorite. It's only fair. A truck for three lives. He can spare a good one for his old friend. 

He pulled up to one of the empty pumps and nudged Rufus awake. “Your turn.” he said and got out of the car, stretching his sore legs and back, then limping a little to the main station to get some energy drinks, and celebratory or consolatory liquor. Depending entirely on the outcome.

Meg watched the older Hunter go and quietly went back to texting, frowning at how fast her battery was dying. She was surprised that already, two hours had passed since she and Bobby spoke. One look to her side showed the tiny dragons curled up in Sam's free hand that rested on his lap. Safe a place as any. Sam himself adjusted his head since the car stopped, but stayed sleeping. He needed it. She got out and stretched, looking at the sun slowly setting. Clouds coloring the sky in pinks and purples. The colors changing so gradually and beautifully that she found herself staring at it instead of heading to the bathroom. 

She smiled sheepishly at Rufus when she noticed him looking at her and started to walk around the car to the station. 

He said at her retreating form, “They are lovely, aren't they.” And got a small grin out of her. All that's happening and they can still appreciate the beauty around them. It felt, nice.

In the car, Meg's phone gave a warning ding for low battery. A few minutes after that, the screen went black just as everyone got settled. Phone forgotten and accidentally dropped to the floor of the backseat. 

 

Ellen paced the hall of the hospital outside of Castiel's room. Unable to reach that Meg girl to tell her that she's got Castiel and Balthazar ready to go and will meet them there when it's showtime. She just needs the coordinates for the meet. Ellen figured that they probably didn't even know where they were going, and would reply when they find out. For now, she's just waiting for Balthazar to help his friend back into some stolen cloths that were big enough for the cast, so they can get the hell out of dodge before some soldier or Hunter comes looking for them. Ellen sent a text out to her daughter, Jo who had been acquiring a jeep that pulled up to one of the back doors, gassed up and ready to go.

Ellen had to admire all the work that went into planning the complete takeover of the Base by conspiracy hounds. So elegant in its design. She'd love to meet those guys, Wes and Brandon. She could appreciate fighters that didn't have to lift a gun to win battles. That is, if that British Balthazar guy ever tells her where his geek batcave is. Either way, she's glad those guys are on their side. They reminded her of Ash back at the roadhouse. Her own mullet haired tech guru. Oh the trouble those boys could get into if they ever cross paths. Or perhaps they already did. Not like anyone uses their real names online anymore. 

She was distracted from her thoughts as Balthazar and Castiel exited the room quickly and silently. She was impressed that these two former civies were already better at sneaking around then some of the Hunters that frequent her bar. They'd be good troops for the cause if they wanted to go into the Winchester's family business. Hanging out with those boys have taught them a thing or two. 

She made sure the room was cleaned of evidence and followed after them. Surprised they knew where to go. She guessed that Balthazar guy that's leading them had already mapped out the hospital before she got there. 

Ten minutes later and they were already leaving town, headed towards the last known whereabouts of the other half of their group. Lucky for them, Jo was a master at exceeding the speed limit and not getting caught. They'd make it there with time to spare.

 

“Here. Right here is the best spot I've seen. Pull over would ya, Rufus?” Bobby nudged his elbow into his friend's side who slapped his hand away. 

The Impala came to a stop on a clearing that was on the top of a small hill. They could see for miles in nearly every direction that mattered. The sun had set half an hour ago, sky still fading to black and the stars were out and getting ready for moon rise. Bobby checked his watch and compass as Meg woke up the Drauglin's first by gently tilting Sam's hand to a decline and letting the tiny things onto her own hand. They didn't really appreciate the abrupt wake up at first but in the following half second of waking Sam up, they were eternally grateful as that lax free hand they called a bed shot up and went for a knife. Sam gasped in pain as the muscles all spasmed violently at the sudden movement. Arm wrapping tightly around his chest and teeth clenching shut along with his leaking eyes. 

Breathing through the pain, he finally looked around himself and down at the hand holding the knife, dropping it instantly and looking around himself in a panic. 

“I got them.” Meg reassured from outside of the car. She had ducked back just fast enough to avoid getting sliced open. Dean and Cricket were having heart attacks of their own at all the movement and sound. Meg brought them up to her eyesight to check on them and was a little sad to see them so afraid of her. “You're fine guys. Just gonna, uh, hold onto you for a second. If that's alright with you?”

Cricket clearly wasn't in the conversing mood so Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat and hoped that she could see his absolutely tiny hand sign, 'We are ok with you.' before going back to holding his mother close to keep her calm. Giving an exaggerated thumbs up and full neck and head nod if she couldn't see him all that well in this darkness. 

'I'll never get used to this.' Cricket whispered fearfully at Dean while staring nervously up at her old friend. 'In a hand. We are in a hand. Both of us.' she forced herself to shut out the world and leaned into Dean's embrace and soothing words. 

'Wont have to get used to it. Gonna be big again in just a few minutes. Promise.' Dean hugged her with a wing and they kept each other steady in the swaying hands. Meg shaped her fingers into a bowl and held them just under her chest as close to her body as possible. Standing off to the side of the men clearing the area of saplings and scrub. Sam unable to do much more then kick stuff down and wince. 

Bobby called over to Meg. “You can hold them, but I'd feel better if you were armed.” and pointed to the opened truck of the Impala. “Pick the one you know how to use but leave the weird looking ones alone.”

She wandered over and eyes went comically wide at the wide array of weapons the trunk held. “Who are these people?” She whispered before remembering herself and looking down at her hands. Dean was the owner of this car and its trunk-o-goodies. “Sorry.” she flushed in embarrassment, and smiled a little tight lipped before she set about looking for a simple .22 pistol. Having had one as a birthday gift from her brother years ago when she moved out on her own to the 'big city'. Meg heard Dean chirp something at her and nod. Apparently he thinks the simple pearl handled .22 was a good choice and grinned back. “I'll treat it with care.”

'No problem, just won it in a pool game.' He trilled up and hoped that if she did have to fire the gun, she'd at least put them somewhere safe first. The sound might make them deaf before they get big again. Dean turned his attention back to his surroundings while still holding onto Cricket. She was taking everything rather well, considering. 'It's ok, gonna all be over soon. The big circles almost done so Rufus can start working on the ingredients. Sam's going over the reversal for our shrinking now. See?' Dean pointed over as Sam was seen mumbling the words over and over. Simple enough, his brother just didn't want to screw it up and make the transition as slow as last time. Quick and concise is what they need. 

Sam half limped over to Meg, grinning down at her hand and giving the one with the gun a passing glance. “I'm good, you guys want to get big again?”

Dean straightened up. 'Oh hell yes.'

“Good to hear. Then we gotta figure out how to remove the chip from your spines.” Sam frowned. 

“Oh!” Meg exclaimed and handed over Dean and Cricket back to Sam who took them in a surprised hand, trying to keep it stable while still holding the sheet of paper in that hand and the other wrapped around his chest. 

Meg dove into the car and pulled out her small purse and rummaged through it and pulled out a nail file. 

Dean peeked over Sam's curled fingers and looked quizzically at the giants. 'What's she got? A file? My claws are fine for now and pretty soon they'll be gone. Why would I need -”

“Meg that's brilliant!” Sam crowed before remembering about little ears and quietly said, “Dean, this is gonna work. We just need some more light.” Sam went back to the Impala and set the two Drauglin's down on the dash, lighting up the interior lights and pulling out several flashlights that they could spare. Two flip phones for their backlit screens helped get some more angles covered as he took the nail file into his good hand and leaned forward. Dean backed up. 

'Sam?' Dean trilled nervously as Meg got into the car next to Sam and held her hands on either side of him. Dean could only see three giant's hands and intense eyes around him. 

“Don't worry, Dean, you're going to do the fine tuning since I can't feel how far down it is. I'll start, then you finish. Cricket will let us know when the chip is free. Wont you, Cricket?” Sam looked to the small frightened Drauglin. “Dean? Little help translating?”

Dean finally caught on and said, 'That thing is going to scrape off the spike where they hid a tracking chip in us. For me it's under the half flat spine in-between my shoulders, probably the same for you too. When Sam gets close, I'm going to take over, rubbing my back against it, and you've got to be my eyes since I can't see that spot very well. If you see something flat and metal, dig it out and then we will do the same for you. When we do the spell, we can't have anything in our bodies that we weren't born with. Nothing man-made that we weren't uh, originally swallowed with. You got me when I was still wearing my ring and boxers so hopefully those wont interfere. What were you wearing when you were changed? Anything new added that isn't natural?'

Cricket frowned deeply, she couldn't remember since the day she was turned she was nearly frozen to death in the snow with her lover. Only this 'chip' thing was new. She didn't recall the soldiers doing anything else. She eventually shook her head and was ushered over to Dean to sit next to him and monitor the human's actions. The first scrape of that huge flat board on her boys spine sent her teeth on edge. A relatively large chunk was scraped off all at once. Too much! It was flipped over to the fine side, and the next scrape wasn't quite so harsh. Meg had said something that sounded like an apology going by the scents. 

Sam started slowly and very carefully dragging the board across Dean's back and Dean shivered visibly. 'Like magic fingers. Fuck yeah.' and started purring mindlessly. 'Best massage ever, Sammy. Do the rest of them afterwards.'

“Keep it up, Toothless.” Sam grinned and scraped again, ignoring the pleased little humming purr his brother was making. He was secretly glad it wasn't painful at all for Dean, and hoped that he wouldn't sand it down too far. The spikes near the one he was working on were filed down as well, Dean's body was just too small to single one out. 

'Stop!' Cricket shrieked and Dean startled. Sam's hand shot up and both Drauglin's winced involuntarily at the huge movement and whoosh of displaced air. She found her cracking voice again, just loud enough for Dean. 'He was getting close to your skin.' And crept closer now that the huge hands were gone. She assessed the area and blew away the dust, wiping her hand over the area and grinning. 'I got it.' She said and using her claws, scraped off a metal shard no bigger then a grain of sand. She put it on the ground beside her and smashed it with her toes. It crumbled into a fine powder. 'Gone now.' 

Exuberant smiles all around. Something so tiny was such a pain in their sides for such a very long time. And they got rid of it with a nail file and a mouse sized dragon's finger. 

Dean tried to bend his neck to see the area but gave up. 'I trust you.' and flexed his shoulders, wings flapping. 'Not paralyzed, but I'm pretty sure I would have felt it if I was. Or if we went too deep.' he looked up at Sam, Meg, and then his mom. 'Thanks.' 

“No problem.” Sam and Meg said. “Now, Milady?” Sam hovered the file closer and planned on using the part that was still clear of spike dust. 

Dean guided Cricket on over and the process was repeated. Cricket didn't have as many spikes so it took no time at all to find the right one, it being shorter then the others, and Dean crushed it into micro-millimeter pieces. Each chunk barely having atomic weight to them they were so small. He longed to set fire to them but at this size they'd go up in flames as well.

Sam licked his thumb and wiped Dean's spike area clean, much to his older and smaller brother's chagrin and used a napkin to gather up condensation from a cold water to help Cricket wipe herself down. If they wait, they'll be too big to clean later. Sam smirked at the indignant look Dean was giving him as he manhandled the tiny Drauglin to wipe him down with the cleaner side of the wet napkin. “We can't risk any part of that metal or anything man-made getting stuck to your feet. I'm gonna carry you now.” he said as he plucked Dean up into his hand and turned it around for Cricket to get up on her own. Dean sorely wanted to bite Sam but knew it would be more effective if he waited just a minute later. 

Sam walked slow and carefully to a clear area inside the circle. Dean was placed a good dozen feet from Cricket who was nervous about being on the ground with so many giants looming overhead. Every night creature that was in the woods made themselves known in hoots, cries and calls. Likely sensing the magic that was about to course through the ground from the circle. The dog barks set Dean on edge the most. Dean could just barely hear Cricket gasp sharply at a shadow flying overhead.

'Do it quick, Sam! Before some owl makes us into lunch!' 

Sam pulled his sheet out and said the reversal loud and clear and above all, _quickly_. When he said it before at the hotel, he was basically asleep so the length of his recitation might have had an impact on the results. He needn't have worried because all at once, a glow came from the circle and everyone could see Dean and Cricket getting larger and larger, their bodies curling up and beginning to arc, just because their feet would have to constantly shuffle outwards or else get bound together. Dean just flopped onto his side to limit the awkwardness of always stepping outwards, and let himself slide back into his full 50 foot form. Cricket taking a cue from him did the same and they were looking back down at tiny humans and a toy sized car. 

Dean waited a few more seconds as the wind calmed down again, the glow receding all the way, before he stretched out fully. Wings extending to their limits, he felt like roaring one last time before it's back to human-hood. Memorizing the feel of wings stretching and flapping. A tail that's long and agile, great for balance but also as a club when needed. He wondered if he'd miss any part of this. 

'Dane? You ready to be sole proprietor of this fine body?' 

Dane was getting antsy but understood where Dean was coming from. They were going to be split. Forever. He would know what life was like as a pure Drauglin. No human bits to get in the way. He would have joined in Dean's fun but he saw something out of Dean's eyes that he must not have noticed. 'Wait, Dean. There's something out there.'

A jeep pulled up with two women and two men. Sights for sore eyes. 

“Ellen! Jo! We are so glad you could make it for the fireworks!” Bobby greeted and hugged them both. Rufus gave a respectful handshake with his teeth showing a bright smile. Sam waved from his location on the other end of the circle, already getting the other circle started. Dean leaned his head back so he could see the jeep past his mother and giddily bound past her to the new arrivals. 

'Cas! Cas you alright? I was so worried about you.' Dean purred, inhaling the scents in the area to get a better picture. 'The doc's give you guys any trouble? How's uh, how's your arm? Your chest?' he faced Balth and checked him out as well. Both seemed fine. He remembered himself and backed up a step from Ellen and Jo who had never seen the Drauglin in person before. 'uh, Hey guys. Thanks so much for helping, promise I'll repay you guys.' He bowed his head to seem slightly less tall and intense. He was glad that they didn't outright open fire or run from him, but he could definitely scent the startled worry from the two ladies. That was probably just due to his size and fast movements. The others had gotten used to him to the point of acting like it was no big deal, no matter what size he was.

'Cas, check it out, we got Mom! She's fine, probably confused as hell right now.' he murmured quietly and gave a quick look behind himself. Sure enough, Cricket was looking into the woods for her son's Drauglin Mate named Cas. Time to tell all. Deep breaths. Dean ushered Cas forward enough to be able to sit behind him and placed his hands on either side of Cas, close enough for Cas to reach out and place his right hand on Dean's wrist.

'Mom, this is my Mate, this is Castiel.' He announced and even those that didn't speak Drauglin could tell what was going on. 

Everyone was quiet, watching the huge midnight black dragon. Barely visible in the dark clearing before the moon rise. 

Cricket looked at Dean then way down to the human between his hands. Surely that was a mistake. Maybe the human helped get his Mate out? She lowered her head and inhaled a little. The human leaned back into Dean, unsure what to do. Dean moved his right hand a little closer, rubbing the human's leg with the side of his thumb. It was a male. The human was male. She looked up at her son blankly. 

'Cas, don't be rude, say hi to my Mom.' Dean muttered. 

“Uh, hello Miss Cricket.” Castiel's voice wavered a little. Not wanting to end up on her bad side. “Dean has told me so much about you, I am glad you're free and that we can help you out.” Cas looked up to Dean to translate which he did with some pride in his voice. Castiel frowned when some of the chirps and purrs were nothing more then chirps and purrs to his ears. Half of the understood words changed into gibberish or just sounds. 

Dean beamed down at Cas and winked. Cas shot a glance at Sam who was also looking up at Dean with a quizzical eye. “Dean? The communication spell is wearing off!” Cas shouted up.

Dean's heart pounded harder. No. Nonono, not when they're so close to the end! What if he needed to tell them something? What if? His eyes shot up to his mother. 'If there's anything you want to tell the humans, better say it quick so I can tell them!'

Cricket came to herself, out of the frozen state of coming to terms with her boy apparently Bonding and Mating with a _male_ _human_! 'Uh... uh...! I don't know! Uh, congratulations? He is uh,' she leveled a look at Dean. 'You _did_ notice he's a human didn't you?'

' _I'm_ human!' Dean snapped. 'Or at least I _will_ _be_ in ten minutes.' He looked to the soft light that was coming from the horizon. 'Moon rise.' Dean said like a hopeful sigh and a curse. Long time coming, but right now, too soon. He frowned, shooting a look down at Cas. 'Mom is happy we are together, Cas. Aren't you, Mom?' with Dean giving a pointed look at her.

She nodded hesitantly then more firm when she saw how much Dean needed his mother's approval of his Bonded Mate. 'You two will make a handsome couple.' and grinned at Dean then gave a warm smile to little Castiel. 'Treat each other well.' She looked back to Dean who grinned widely, a happy purlling chirp when he told Cas this. 

Castiel could only pick up some words but the expressions and tones said more. He let out a breath. Apparently Cricket approves. “Thank you.” and rubbed his hand on Dean's arm. 

Once Dean noticed the others hastily working on the circle, he knew time was coming fast. His stomach churned a little, just knowing that his Mate was going by body language then understanding his words. 'Cas? Nod if you can understand me?'

Castiel frowned deeply, nothing but a trill from his Mate's mouth. He waited but all that followed was a soft murmur that turned into an agitated growl that he knew must mean Dean realizes that he doesn't know what he's saying anymore. 

“It's alright, my Love, I fell for you before I knew what you were saying. Love has no language.” He said and reached a hand up for Dean to dip his head down and nuzzle. Dean had to turn it to the side and let his eyes drift close as Cas caressed his chin then nose. He then kissed the bridge of Dean's nose and Dean practically collapsed at the warmth of his Mate's love. 

'You two really do love each other.' Cricket mused and grinned again. 'I hope it goes well tonight.' She looked at the humans all working in a frenzy. 'Dean? Are they uh, ok? Need our help?'

Dean lifted his eyelids and focused on the outside world again. 'Hmm?' He saw the others mixing up the potion and running along the circle with a paper in everyone's hand, shouting directions for everyone's part to draw in the huge area. A circle twice the size as any before. 100 feet across with more strange sigils and words then any Dean's seen before. Bobby kept looking at them then the circle and the spell every few seconds. Then to the moon that was just now lighting the horizon but not yet showing.

Dean was just about to offer his help but Bobby raised up his hands. “You can't step foot on it Dean! It's meant for you! You can't touch it before it's done or else it wont work for you!”

Dean held Cas back as he went to his mother's side, a wing wrapping around her side. 'They're almost done. We have to wait for them to tell us to get in. One at a time. Once you're turned, get out as fast as possible so they can reset it for me.' He pulled her closer in his wings, facing her more fully to hold her in his arms, one of her hands coming up as well to reciprocate. 'I love you, Mom.' and squeezed her tight. Worry, and hope and love and too many emotions clawing at the surface. Of course he would make her go first. They didn't know if they could do both transformations in the limited time. Missouri deserved her human life back. They'll have to see if the spell will split her up like they plan on doing for Dean and Dane. Otherwise, he'll have the real Drauglin named Cricket as well as Missouri coming out. They'll find out soon enough. 

'Dean...' she sighed, sobbed. Glad that he's alive. Thrilled that he didn't hate her for all that she's done. Forgiving her. She pulled back, looking him in the eyes and hearing one of the humans call out something that sounded important. 

'It's time, Mom.' Dean's eyes watered. He let his wings drop to his sides. Both of them looking at the horizon. A bright white moon peeking tentatively out from the distant trees and mountaintops. Just a sliver of light but it hurt their eyes to stare at it from the darkness. Hope shining through. Dean walked her to the circle to wait for the signal from Bobby to enter. He felt her wing around his back and trail up his long neck to pull his head down gently. Giving a kiss to his forehead that he leaned into. Bobby started the incantation, hand at the ready to drop for one of them to take those few steps into the new uncharted future.

Dane _roared_ inside his head. Breaking through the emotional haze Dean had been in ever since Cas showed up. All of his warnings were just muffled and went unnoticed. Dane could tell Dean wasn't doing it on purpose, but he needed Dean to listen right the fuck _now_! He pulled frantically at Dean's attention again and finally got it, 'Dean! There is something in the woods! We are all in big trouble!!' 

A devilish monster snarled lowly from the woods, downwind of everyone there. Biding his time. Silent and still. The spell they were setting up was done, it just needed a dragon to enter. He'll have to act fast. 

Dean's head whipped around to where Dane was screaming warnings and threats at something evil that was approaching. The Drauglin's consciousness was battering around in the mindscape like a firefly in a bottle, desperate to protect his family. Dean's heart leaped into his throat. A dark figure was approaching. Blood on fangs, death in the air. 

The moon started it's climb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up on the end! two more to go!   
> Please comment and kudos if you haven't already done so, Just makes my day :) thanks!  
> anyone guess what's going to happen next?


	39. Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings for this chapter:  
> Major character death  
> Extreme Gore/blood/injury/death/graphic grossness  
> cursing - (no shit lol)
> 
> but *then*! FLUFF!!!  
> So much fuckin FLUFF you're gonna die.   
> I probably should have separated the death from fluff but eh, I've only got one chapter left!   
> then a long ass hiatus before the sequel which is barely more then a one shot at this point.

Chapter 39: 

Lay your Weary Head to Rest

 

 

'Dean!' Cricket cries out, spinning with him the instant she senses the evil presence. Targeting in on a dark brown monster in the woods. She growls viciously when she sees who it is. ' _You!_ You will not hurt my _family_!' and charges after him, Dean only a half step behind. Caught off guard by his mom reacting first. Leaping to her side, snarling, pounding the ground and leaping over Balthazar and Cas to put himself between them and the threat. Hoping that they'll start running to safety. Cricket didn't wait for him but he caught up all the same, protective instincts on overdrive. 

The blow is so intense that all of the humans struggle to stay standing. Hunters pulling the others to the side of the jeep and Impala, the only protection they have out here. They immediately go for weapons and start shooting whenever they get a clear shot. Which isn't often. All three Drauglin's are spinning, tumbling, biting and slashing. Blood splashing all around the area, coating the Impala which narrowly avoids getting crushed by a push of Dean's side to Gordon's. Body checking the dark brown dragon away. Clamping down on his tail and dragging him away from his family in the clearing. Dean spat out the bloody tail and was spinning around to leap on him as solidly as he could. Trying hard to keep him pinned down and distracted. 

_'Mom! Get to the circle! Now!_ ' he calls out before biting down on Gordon's wing stump, crunching the healing wounds and forcing Gordon to flip to the side to dislodge Dean's jaws while yowling in pain. 

Dean's gnashing teeth were ripped from the wing stalk taking with it bits of flesh and bone. He spat it out and beat his wings to get some air away from Gordon's teeth, he accidentally flew backwards trying to stay upright and dodge the attacks. Belatedly realizing that hes now farther away from the circle and his family. He scrambles to get back to the space between the threat. Gordon stretches his neck out and grabs a firm hold of Dean's side, pulling him back down to slash at each other. Dean rips into him again, kicking his legs at the recently healed belly wounds from yesterday. Opening them back up, forcing Gordon to retreat for a second or risk his organs spilling out. 

'Mom! _Go_!' Dean shouts again, panting, covered in blood.

Gordon is desperate, exhausted from the all day running but fueled with rage. He wont get another chance to turn human ever again. No one would try to help him. Only kill him for the lives he took. Gordon releases a blast of fire at Dean who feels the heat of it now that he's freshly shed his old scales. 

Dean cried out and had to roll in the dirt to put out the lingering flames. Wings digging into the ground, tearing up the landscape as he scoops great chunks of earth over his smoking body. He shakes off the boulders and small trees and blasted right back at Gordon with the same results. Looks like Walker had also just shed. He spat out more flames and kicked his own head back quickly to avoid getting his own flaming spray on himself.

Dean sees Cricket pace just outside of of the circle, begging her son to stay back from that abomination. Bobby is reciting the chant as best he can, waving his hands for _somebody_ to get in the damned circle! The moon is already rising. The other Hunters and humans are waving for Cricket's attention, not getting too close because she's so frantic to save Dean that she's not watching where she's stepping. 

The bastard dragon is relentlessly slashing and attacking Dean, all in the hopes that he could enter the circle too and change back into human like the others. Dean knows that the spell can only work one at a time, and they only have enough ingredients for two dragons to shift back and can't allow him to take his place. He debates with himself though, as he guards his family, using his body as a punching bag to buy his mom time to get going. But if he and Cricket are human, Gordon will still be a pissed off Drauglin that will kill _everyone_ there. Dean dislodges Gordon just long enough and shoves his mother into the circle and she's nearly pinned in place as Bobby and Sam continue the chant and spell work. Cricket is _screaming_. It's not from pain. It's from her inability to save anyone now. Falling to her knees and elbows, struggling to stay standing to leave the circle and help her son. Her cries die off and she falls to her side. Weakly watching her sons destroy each other as her eyes slip closed. A frightening feeling of being torn asunder the only thought assaulting her mind now. 

Sam holds onto Bobby's ears so he can't hear the howls and screams. Focusing on finishing the complicated spell. Rufus is standing right next to them, shotgun up and aimed at Walker, pumping round after round of silver buckshot at the beast. Doing little more then bug bites to his skin but he can't stop because there isn't anything else he can do. Ellen and Jo are standing at the cars, protecting Meg who is the least prepared one here for battle. Balth and Cas are firing off their own weapons at Gordon as well. But it might as well be trying to stop a raging elephant with bb's. Soon, wordlessly, all of the humans except for Bobby who's still reciting and adding the ingredients to the area, all circle Gordon and give Dean a chance to get back up on his feet from where he fell. 

Cricket's body is heaving in the center of it all, lights too bright to look at shine from the cracks in her skin like magma breaking the earth's crust. The humans using the light to see the evil monster better, aiming at his head and forcing him back a few steps.

They will have to reset to do a second dragon soon, _which one_ is the problem. Gordon is in the middle of the circle of men and women all trying to keep him from hurting Dean anymore. He's giving his all, desperate for the chance to turn back into a human, between pleas and growls. Barely on his feet, assessing the situation with the eye of a psychopath. 

Dean growls lowly, hacking blood into the ground, trying to get his balance back. It feels as though he cracked his skull open. 'You stay away from them.' the blood and saliva drip from his mouth, cheek slashed badly and the ridge of his nose is showing a flash of bone. Even speaking _hurts_.

Cas shoots a look up at Dean, sees what the monster has done to him and runs to Bobby's side and steals his cane. Unsheathing the silver sword from inside and with just one usable hand, slashes at Gordon's hands. Gordon wheels back away from the burning metal. Cas pursuing. “ _He is mine!_ ” Cas roared right back at the dragon and cut an artery in Walker's arm. Blood pouring out and forcing him back. 

Meg runs out of bullets in her .22 and hears the other hunters also call out that they are out or getting there. She retreats to the Impala for more magazine clips and returns to the fray, handing them out to the Hunters. She nearly trips over herself when she hears a woman's cry behind her, so human, so scared. She races to the circle where Bobby is no longer chanting but hurriedly removing the things he threw into the circle. Resetting it. The moon is half risen. Minutes remain. 

A huge black dragon lifts its head, blinking blearily at her surroundings. Hears a scuffle close-by and tries to focus on it. Thoughts are hard to sort. Her body is sore, but healed somewhat. Something below her is running, rushing to the inside of her curled form. Part of her mind waking up and recognizing who she's looking at. 'Meg?' Cricket half groans at the little woman. 'Did it? Did it work?' her head lifts higher and she frowns. She's still tall, she's still a Drauglin. But Meg isn't paying attention to her anymore, but to something at her stomach. Curled on its side, mimicking how she woke up. 

Meg looks up at Cricket's face and smiles a little. “Cricket? It worked!” and holds out her hand to a black woman who is slowly waking up, dressed in long shredded cloths, a once layered dress and petticoat with just one tall fur lined boot. Dressed for winter, but her clothes looked like they'd been on fire at once point. Holding her arms across her stomach. A long braid of black curly hair coming undone. Eyes wide and fearful. Coughing to rid her lungs of something wet.

“Missouri? Honey? It's ok, it's gonna be ok but you have to come with me over to the car right now.” Meg said calmly, easily pulling the woman to her feet and guiding her straight to the Impala. 

The woman starts to speak but coughs instead. “Me- Meg?” 

“Yes! Yes, I'm Meg. I'm here to help you. Let's get you to safety.”

“My son... my son?” she feebly pushes at Meg's iron grip to look at the two massive Drauglin's crashing into the woods. Meg pulls her along faster, half hugging half dragging, since Missouri is taller then her. 

A huge black shape overhead makes both of them look skyward at Cricket who chirps at them.

Missouri stops dead still. “Yes, it's me.”

Cricket's eyes went wide. 'I understood that.'

Missouri has tears in her eyes, wiping them away. The days events coming back to her fully. “Cricket, we need to leave the circle so they can reset it for our son!”

Cricket nods and looks over to Dean and cries out in shock at what she sees. She charges right over the humans and barrels into Gordon at full speed, fury and rage and protective instincts singing in her veins. She would have killed Walker instantly, but she's still weak from the split. 

'Mom!?' Dean calls out, bewildered and upset.

'Get to the circle!' Cricket roars at him and slashes at Gordon again. 'Don't you fuckin' _dare_ hurt my boy again!!' 

Gordon is frantic, knowing that he's too far from the clearing now. Watches as Dean gets to his hands and knees, hobbling to the circle. Gordon sees that the circle is unoccupied and shoves the weakened Cricket off of himself to force her down the hillside. Muscling his way past Dean to the center, demanding he's next. Bobby can't stop setting up the bowl of ingredients. Can't run away, knowing Dean's the only one that can take Walker out of the circle again. Not even sure if Dean wanted him here in the first place, turn the most dangerous one here human so they can kill him easier. His cane gone, he grabs a stick to redraw the sigils but hesitates. He knows if he starts drawing it again with Walker in the center, it will be useless to the brown Drauglin. 

“What should I do?” Bobby shouts over. Chaos everywhere he turns. 

Dean summons up his strength and charges head on at Walker, pushing him back, impaling his skin with his horns when Gordon tries to attack his neck. Dean whips his head back and around, Gordon bleeding and staggering, delirious. He drags him forcefully from the circle like a bag of garbage, as the other hunters and humans descend on the circle, redrawing the sigils as fast as possible. Racing against the rising moon. One by one, each shouts that they are done with their section and run to help the next one closest.

Rufus shouts over to Bobby. “Punch it, Bobby! We're ready!”

Bobby starts the spell while Ellen and Jo flank him. Cas and Balthazar keep Gordon from getting closer to Meg and Missouri in the Impala. Firing off everything from the trunk to keep Walker away when he looks to the car to take hostages. Cricket blasts out of the woods and tackles Walker yet again. 

Rufus shouts at Dean, “Dean! Now! She's got him!” 

Dean is weak and manages to muster up just enough strength to walk gingerly into the circle and immediately falls to his knees in the center the second his last foot enters. Looking over and watching helplessly as Cricket and Gordon slow in their attack, each worn out but fighting for their lives. 

They don't have long before the time is lost. Moon practically fully exposed. Sam snatches up the second and last set of ingredients and practically throws them at Dean who just manages to duck into it to get as much on his own skin as possible so that even if Gordon comes back, he wont be able to shift back into a human.

Bobby shouts the words as fast as he can, hoping that he doesn't screw them up as Dean writhes in the circle, panting and wide eyed. Shrieking in pain. This is different then how it was for Cricket. Light comes from from every crack in his scales. Shining out like a beacon. Bobby keeps on chanting but looks to Sam for what they did wrong this time around. Gordon sees that the moon is nearly out of alignment and musters up some strength, starting his charge to bull Dean away. All of the others open fire on him, skin bursting with the explosions. Dean can't keep him at bay. Cricket locks her jaws around Gordon's side, ripping his chest open to expose ribs. The tear in his skin extending down to his stomach like a ripped bag, intestines falling and being stepped on by his own feet. An errant kick lands square on Crickets forehead and she falls where she is.

A mortal wound but Gordon only has bleeding eyes for that circle and tries hard to push aside the searing pain in his body from each gaping hole and silver bullet, the silver cane sword still firmly stuck through his arm. Lodged in from that one human wearing a cast. All of the silver cutting past his softened post shed hide to get the silver in deep. He feels like he's burning from the inside out. His charging body falters. He's _so close_.

Dean looks over, only half seeing the huge brown form and braces himself for the impact. Gordon falls heavily, ground bucking under the weight, but just his head is inside the circle with Dean. Ragged breaths slowing, blood spattering the circle with each exhale. Eyes struggling to stay open. One gurgled word before he's unable to do more then spit blood, ' _please..._ '

Bobby stutters the chant. Sam can't do anything because he's still adding the ingredients to the spell. He shoots a frightened look at the others who jump to action. Cricket isn't moving, hopefully just out cold. Everyone that's able to is running around and trying desperately to haul the heavy dragon's neck and head out of the way. Dean _screams_.

Gordon's body starts to glow, even as he's taking his last breaths. Dean is a beacon of light. Everyone shields their eyes from the dragons and a deafening sound rings out. A howling cry of pain and agony.

Bobby muscles his way to the end of the spell, blinded and deaf, he hopes that it can still work somehow. Too late to stop mid way, Dean would surely die. An exploded mass of flesh and bones.

The light fades, Bobby is silent, Sam is on his knees, groping around for the bowl of ingredients with blind eyes. He touches it and hears a loud but familiar pained wheeze and throws the remainder at the sound. It hits its mark, and he hears a grunt of pain mixed with annoyance.

Gordon is dead, a malformed abomination that's sure to give everyone there nightmares for life. Hardly resembling anything that was once dragon or human. His remains look like he had contracted every disease known to man. Boils, leperacy, gangrene, herpes, black plague, his body looked like a mishmash of death. Starting at his malformed head but lessening closer to his tail.

Slowly, the humans eyesight's return to see a lump in the center of the raised churned circle. Only the outermost ring was recognizable now. Everything inside the spell's circle is torn earth, mounds of it in a rough semicircle. The cloud of dust slowly settling around it. Everyone's hopes rise a little because the small lump is much smaller then the Drauglin's size kicking up a puff of dust. It moves and deep gasps are heard in stereo. A much larger shape is coming up out of the earth now, encircling the small form in the center, rising up from the dirt as a low rumbling is heard like thunder. It uncoils and lifts up its head on top of a mighty long neck, a thunderous, vicious roar is belched out of its fang filled mouth and it lifts itself onto four huge legs. Barely visible in the dark where the moon has passed behind clouds. 

It jerks left and right to rid itself of the dirt and rocks. It glares at everyone around, eyes glinting in the little light available. The cold glower chilling their very souls as it lifts up its thin scaled lips and hisses at them. Pure animal. They could detect the growls and movements as defensive after their hearts were swallowed back down. It's afraid. It's pissed that it's surrounded. Sam can barely see, no better then anyone else here from the brilliant light display, but he still makes out the vague shapes of his friends and lifts up his arms slowly to usher them back from the beast.

The monster zero's in and hisses at Sam, lowering its head and squinting. Sam gulps audibly and twitches his fingers again for everyone else to get the hint and _back the fuck away from it_. Simultaneously, getting the monster's attention on him alone.

Sam let out his own growl, trying to sound as challenging as possible as he heard the others back up to safety. All the while his heart was breaking. This. Was a monster. Dean was dead. What does he have to live for now? They lost. His brother's dead. He's dead. They failed. Sam's growl turned pathetic. Sniffing back tears, turn it to hatred. This thing isn't his brother anymore. It's threatening the only family he's got left. Thoughts jumbling in his head. Dean's dead. Dean's _dead_. Don't let him die alone.

Suicide by monster. Save his friends in the process. It's not what he hoped, and definitely not what he promised Dean he'd do. But Dean's not here to call him out on it. Dean was supposed to live that long life with him. And he can't because he's dead. Dean is dead and Sam wants to join him _right the fuck now_. He failed. He failed and his failure is gonna sink it's teeth into everyone here if he doesn't fix this.

“Everyone? Go. I got him.” Sam risked a glance to his left and right to his friends. They trusted him to be able to talk to the monster, thinking that he senses Dean still in there. He knows better, but lies to alleviate their future guilt. “I can get Dean to back down, but not if everyone's here.” He lied easily even though his breath was being squeezed from his lungs. At least he wont have to live too long with the horrible ache in his chest. His face contorting into one of disgust and sadness. Why? Why did his brother go through all that torment for _nothing_? Don't let him die alone. Don't leave him alone. 

Sam worried that Dean's soul wont rest if he thinks his family is in danger, wont find peace. Turning into a ghost to and then what's left of his soul will degrade into something that they used to hunt. A poltergeist or vengeful spirit. Sam thought out a message to the disembodied soul of his brother, if he could hear and understand that is, 'I got this, Dean. I got it.'

There was no talking this monster down. The hungry saliva dripping from it's mouth is proof of that. Sam just hoped that his body would provide enough of a distraction for the monster to let them escape and regroup. Maybe Bobby could take out the monster while it's busy eating him.

Morbid thought. But one that crossed his mind.

Cas was beside himself with horror. He knew that there was no part of this monster that was Dean. It was all beast. Hungry, angry, and wild. His love, was dead. Cas found himself walking over to Sam who was still tense and standing his ground. Cas didn't stop, didn't hesitate. He just kept on walking in a straight line, right towards the dragon.

The dragon snarled menacingly at him. Baring fangs, digging his claws into the ground and tearing it up. Cas stopped at the edge of the circle and closed his eyes serenely and lifted up his arms to his sides. The cast keeping his broken arm from extending all the way. Waiting for the quick death. _Hoping_ that it would be quick. He felt the hot air rush by his face and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Then a rush of air moving towards the dragon's snout and back again. It was inhaling and exhaling with the rumbling growls slowing down and morphing into curious croons. 

It was smelling all of the anguish, love, fear, acceptance and then, surprisingly enough, impatience. 

Cas huffed a breath. This mode of death was taking too long. Castiel cracked one eye open, making sure that the dragon didn't just leave him standing there with his arms outstretched like an idiot for no reason at all. An insult that his body wasn't good enough as a dragon sacrifice. Maybe it didn't like his white plaster cast. He opened up both eyes to the gray ones staring back at him. Not green, gray. And now that he's looking harder, no freckles either. Unblemished light brown scales. Any thought that this was ever Dean went out the window. But that feeling, the emotion behind the eyes, that was its own kind of pain. A touch of compassion. Some deep emotions whirling around in the monster's countenance. More deep inhales that gusted the air around himself and then Sam, before heading back to himself again. It crooned a single note at him and moved very slowly towards him. Nudging his chest before retreating again to look at him with open confusion in those big gray eyes. Cas could see the intelligence flare up as if it was a spark in the darkness. Where there once was a monster, was now just a being. A living being that was waging a war with itself and its buried nature. Cas lowered his arms, feeling the slight burn in the sore muscles and looked up at the massive dragon again.

After a false start, Cas found his voice again, “Who are you?”

The dragon made no sign of recognition at first but then frowned a little. It dipped its great head in again and bumped into his chest. The look in his eyes when they were just a few feet away from his own said it all, this wasn't Dean, but perhaps he already knew who this was.

“Dane?”

The dragon squinted at him a little and those large gray eyes lit up a bit. Recognition mixed with distrust. Another growl turned croon. Like the thing was waking up after a nightmare. Unsure if this was the real world or if it needed to keep fighting the evil monsters.

Castiel raised up his good hand again, the dragon sniffed at it before bumping into it with extreme care. Cas risked rubbing the front of the huge nose and the large gray eyes drifted closed, a slight nod in the head when they opened and a serene smile tugged at the long mouth. 

“Hello, Dane.” Cas said, smiling widely but with a hint of sadness there. He was grateful that the beast was no longer about to kill them all, but it appeared that he was alone in the body. He felt Sam move to his side, adding his own hand to the front of Dane's snout. Rubbing and tearing up badly. 

Castiel turned to Sam and hugged him close, tears flowing freely now. “I'm so sorry, Sam.” What it must be like to loose a brother? Cas himself felt like he lost a part of his soul. How the hell are hey supposed to go on now?

After accepting Cas's condolences, coming to terms himself that he wasn't the only one mourning the heavy loss. The tears flowed harder, both of them lost a part of themselves. Sam chocked out past the despair. “Sorry, Cas.” Unable to voice much more. Hugging back just as tight. All of this. All of it was for nothing. Dean still died in the end. He caught a glimse of Missouri and was a little consoled in the fact that they were able to help someone out in all this. But, at what cost? Dean didn't deserve to go out like that. In so much agony... 

Dane chirped at them from overhead. They were startled enough to let go of each other and look up to the questioning expression. Both remembering that Dane literally lost a piece of himself. Not only a brother or soulmate. But both at once. His literal, other half. They were about to console the Drauglin but Dane was just chirping at them and turning his head to something behind him, still in the circle. They couldn't see past his legs and tail once he stood again on tired feet. Dane moved sluggishly back to the circle, giving the lump of mutilated flesh that once was Walker a distasteful snort before ignoring it and moving on. Sam and Cas were the first to move closer, the rest hovering back a little ways out of respect but their intrigue is growing at what the dragon is doing now. 

Dane dipped his head down into the middle of where he'd been curled up and nudged at something there. The thing moved but they weren't sure if it was just a thing knocked off kilter or something that was alive until it moved on its own. A twitch of some sort at the snout that then blasted air at it. More movement as Dane uncovered part of the thing. A fist came out of the pile of churned dirt and punched at the nose. Dane jerked back from the startling movement but dove back in, snuffling and pushing the figure out by force.

Dane grumbled something at the figure and received another punch followed by a kick. The figure wriggling around on the ground, trying to find purchase in the soft earth. Finally getting to its side and coughing into the dirt. A wet hacking cough that was so painfully _human_ sounding, sent Castiel and Sam hobbling towards him. Having to climb over the churned earth and dips in the ground. Nothing for the dragon to walk over, but for them, took a little bit of time.

Dean tried to collect himself. There was a weight on his back once he flipped to his side that was throwing him off kilter. His shoulder muscles twitched as he coughed again, and felt movement along his back and dragging across his bare legs and feet. He felt air currents move along his spine in more places then there should be. Skin felt stretched along the upper part of his spine but below his neck. He felt whole again though, the gash's and breaks in his skin were either gone or just sore. He could barely see anything. But something huge kept on pushing at him until he was finally on his hands and knees. Heaving into the ground all of his dinner and some from lunch. Chunks of meat that were probably hot dogs and beef jerky. Pretty large chunks by the feel of it as he retched again. Ridding himself of the food stuffs. His lungs burned and he had to take a break to just breath for a second. His throat still felt full but he swallowed whatever it was back. Feeling something on either side of the base of his jawline shift back. A foul taste on his tongue that wasn't from bile. 

He tried focus his hearing on some kind of scuffle off to the side but unable to see much. Something brushed by his legs but that was far down the list of things to worry about right now.

“Hell.. hello?” His voice came out five times lower then he expected. But blessedly human sounding. Rough from the fight and throwing up no doubt. “Gu-” more coughing. “Guys?” He could hear something rumble overhead and instantly understood the words but the sound of it was foreign and familiar at the same time. Unused to hearing it outside of the rumbling it caused his skull when he used to speak. “Dane?” he croaked out.

'I'm here, Dean.' the relieved crooning sigh said, and Dean felt the huge thing on his side, help him stand up before moving away.

Dean staggered to his bare feet once the steady wall disappeared and fell over immediately from the shifting weight on his back. His head hurt as well and his fingertips tingled when he landed on them. His eyesight was clearing quickly now. Blinking out the debris and sorting out his scrambled brains enough to link up the visual stimuli with his cognitive abilities again. He took stock of his body and was horrified that the spell didn't work – at least, _not all the way._

Huge wings were still attached to his back, proportionate to his current body, horns protruding from the back of his head and claws on every one of his fingers and toes. He was not naked though, like he feared, because when he was first changed, he still had his boxers on when the mother swallowed him whole. But to see him like one would a demon from hell, in this state, in _boxers_... just didn't seem right. His wings folded in front of himself to cover them up and he looked around himself, almost scared of what the others would think or do once they see how monstrous he looked now. He could even feel some of the more prominent fangs in his mouth. At least his face was more human-ish.

He didn't expect a man bigger then him at 6 ft 4 to come barreling in and knocking him to the ground in a huge bear hug. Both of them in pain from earlier injuries but hardly caring at all. It was like Sam didn't even give a shit about the wings, horns or claws. Dean tried to speak but a forked tongue flicked out and the blind horror of it all came crashing down. _He's still a monster_. One look up confirmed that the time for the spell was well and truly over. The moon was overhead, shining past the clouds. He's stuck like this.

Dean got to his feet, thrown off balance with every step. He looked around himself, at everyone there. No one he cared about died but he might as well have. He's a monstrosity. He looks like a fucking _demon_. Pure hatred and vengeance on the deceased dragon. “You basstard!” his forked tongue made him lisp slightly but he was too pissed to care. His hands hooked into claws and he marched over to the mutilated body, his wings flaring and causing him to sway in time with how the wind caught them. Pissing him off even more. “Mother fucker!” he reached the massive body and his hands tore into the already ripped flesh yanking chunks of it away, digging out where a long wound was already made by Cricket. The definitive mortal wound for the murderer. Dean broke thick layers of membrane past the skin that had been holding back the internal organs that spilled at his feet. The belly had already been slashed and intestines were trailing behind the carcass. Now he was after the chest. He just stomped on the bits of flesh, digging further. 

Everyone around him took steps back, holding each other. He was crazy. Cas was in tears. Thinking that they lost their Dean after all. Now was just a feral creature playing in the organs of a body. Dangerous. Insane.

Dean clawed away, ignoring the scents and sights around him, only concentrating on his goal. He came upon a rib and got a good stance in the squelching organs and kicked at it. A crack forming, he kicked at it again. He was stronger then he ever was as a human. 'Demons are stronger then people after all.' his inner voice hissed. He kept on punching the rib until it broke and he roared in triumph. Plunging his hands into the chest cavity and moving his hands around until he found what he was after, yanking over and over again until a part of it came through the hole he'd made. It was very large, bigger then he was, and slippery. He shot a look behind himself, he'll need help. 

“Sammy. Get over here and help me.”

Sam stepped back. The thing wearing his brother's face was talking to him but he was covered head to toe in blood and literal guts. 

“Sam.” Dean's brow furrowed in frustration. “Get over here and help.” His hands came out from behind the ribs and dripped with blood, claws curling and twitching. 

“Dean?” Sam found his voice, worried.

Dean cocked his head to the side. “What's wro-” he checked himself over. Saw what the others were seeing. Coming back to reality for a second before actually growling at Sam. “I'm trying to get his heart. It's too big for me to haul out on my own. Now are you gonna help me or _just watch_?”

“Dean... why...?”

“For the fucking _blood spell_!” Dean shouted, an undercurrent of a growl. “We need blood to do it right?”

Sam cautiously raised his hands in a calming motion, speaking softly and clear, “It doesn't work like that, uh Dean. We need, um.” unsure if he should clarify when his brother is looking like he's possessed. “Human blood.” 

Dean flipped his hands out to get some of the blood off, wiping his brow. Giving the huge heart next to him a second glance before slashing it with his fingers just to watch the thick already curdling blood pour out in a satisfactory manner, pooling around his bare feet. He stood back from the entrails just far enough to put some space between the cooling dragon corpse and himself. Shaking his fingers out to rid them of the excess blood. Wiping off his arms and flinging it about. Uncaring where it landed so long as it was off of his skin.

Sam and the others were still un-moving, unsure how to proceed when a sudden burst of fine liquid spray came from Dean's human mouth quickly followed by a spark. The heart lit up instantly. A ball of fire shot out like a failed firework ignited the body's own spray from within and soon the whole thing went up in flames. 

Dean had to take a few hasty steps back to keep himself away from the fires. He felt more then saw a huge presence behind him and raised his hand to pat Dane's arm solidly. The corpse didn't burn all the way so Dane took it upon himself to let loose what was left of his own flames to the mix. Neither spoke a word. Just watched as the brown dragon burned. 

The two were still for so long that the others could tell that they were calming down again. Watching the cause of all of their current pains and problems go up in flames and smoke. They knew that since Dean still had wings and such, that the spell went terribly wrong. Walker cost him his humanity. And what was it for? He surely knew he wouldn't have walked out of the woods alive if he'd taken Dean's chance at humanity. Or his mother's. One or all of the Hunters and people would have killed the murdering human dead. So why? Why did he fight so hard to change back when he knew it was useless? All of these questions on everyone's minds. 

Dane finally broke the silence. Rumbling quietly to Dean, 'He didn't want to die a monster.'

Dean wiped a few tears from his eyes and shook his head. “He was a monster before he became a Drauglin. No, not Drauglin. Not that pure, he was a _dragon_. Blood thirsty, hate filled, deserving death, dragon. He got what he deserved.” spitting at the blaze and causing a small spark where it landed. 

Dane lowered himself to the ground, laying his head next to Dean, looking at him from the corner of his eye with his own grays, 'I'm sorry, Dean.'

Dean shook his head a little, both still facing the burning mass. Wiping off his face again, trying to find a clear spot on his skin that wasn't soaked in blood. Wiping again anyway. “It's ok, Buddy.” he sniffed and looked Dane over. “How are you doing? Everything back to where it belongs?”

'I'm fine, Dean.' Dane closed his eyes a little. Assessing his own body again. 'Killer headache but I'll live.' He turned slightly towards Dean and asked, 'You? Are you alright? Besides well... that it didn't, that you uh...' Dane sighed, 'I'm sorry.'

“Not your fault. We'll figure this out.” Dean finally looked over and saw that Sam and Cas and Bobby were closer, on Dane's other side. To them he reaffirmed louder, “We'll figure this out.” nodding at them. Willing them to forget the last half hour of his panic and rage. “We'll just get Azazel or Alistair. Bleed 'em dry for the blood spell. Easy peasy.”

Bobby frowned deeply, “Son,” he started, trying to find a comforting way of saying it. “It wouldn't work.”

Dane pushed at Dean a little when he knew that Dean was going to round on the old hunter. Reminding Dean that Bobby's not the enemy. Bobby didn't notice, or ignored the flash of anger aimed at him.

“Since the spell was 'Completed',d it can't be redone. Thank Gordon over there. The pile of bones, mutilated flesh and blood. I don't even know where to start looking for another reversal spell. Sorry, Boy. Since you aren't a regular Drauglin _or_ human, we can't do that blood spell. Or at least, I don't know how to change it yet to work for you. We'll need time, but, I doubt we'll find a cure that way. Not saying there isn't one, but I wouldn't risk your life on it.”

Dean looked like he wanted to hit something but the only object here worth beating was already reducing to ashes. Dane rubbed a clawed finger along Dean's side. Gentle and reassuring. He rumbled to his human half, 'There was that... that other way.' 

Dean's eyes widened and he looked to Bobby. It was their last hope for some kind of normalcy. Even if they chopped off his wings, horns and claws, he would always be something not entirely human. The least they could do was make it so that he could live in public instead of hiding out in the woods until the day he died. Always on the run from humans of all kinds. Dean knew he couldn't live in hiding like that. Eventually his family and friends would want to go back to living their own lives instead of staring at each other in the woods till they all got eaten by a bear or died of exposure.

“Ok, Bobby, let's do it.” Dean's head nodded firmly. Wings folding and unfolding behind him, making him go off balance again. “I feel like some kind of demon, out to collect souls.” His bat-like wings flexed and he felt along the top rear of his head at his short but sharp horns. A moment of silence as he inspected his body a little while they watched, also

fascinated at the change that the faulty spell managed to produce. “At least its all proportional, I didn't end up with over 200 feet wingspan. Right Dane?”

Dane grinned slightly, lifting up one of his wings to cast the entire area in shadow from the moonlight. 'And your horns aren't too heavy for your head, permanent neck cramp.' his own horns were large enough that, if they were hollow, would fit more then one human inside. Dean actually lucked out, somewhat.

Dean felt something twitch his boxers and flushed, embarrassed as his hands immediately went to the front but found the twitching originating in the back. “Oh great. And a tail. I have a tail. Perfect.” a hand rubbed down his face. “Did you get anything human from me? Or am I the lucky one with all of the dragon bits?”

'Your snarky comebacks, Goliath.' Dane snorted.

“Goliath?”

“The gargoyle leader from that cartoon...” Dane furrowed his brow. How did he know that.

“How the hell did you know about that? Sammy loved that show.” Dean turned to his little brother, “Nerding out right about now, Sammy?” flexing wings and whipping his tail a bit in his direction. 

Dane smirked, at least he's not the only one missing a step. Figuring this out along with the rest of them.

Dean turned back to Dane, “But yeah, I never said anything about...”

Cas spoke up, “He has your memories. That's what he got of yours. Some would argue that their memories make up a huge part of being human. Without them, we would be blank slates. Have feelings sure but no human identity.”

A thoughtful hum from the Drauglin. 'Probably other things too. I'm just too tired to give a crap right now.'

“You and me both, Buddy.” Dean yawned widely. He looked down at himself and saw the disgusting sight he must be making. Appearing as if he was some kind of expensive Halloween costume. “I could use a shower and a bed. And some food.”

With that said, his family and friends were finally calmed down completely, Dean didn't have that look of blood lust in his eyes, hatred in his heart. That frenzy was violent, unexpected, but not unwarranted. Walker got off easy for the crimes he committed. How many soldiers lives did he take? Consume? And before all this, how many innocent creatures died at his bigoted Hunter's hands? 

They just didn't want to see Dean loose himself over that murdering filth. 

Sam limped on over, putting a firm hand on Dean's shoulder, “Let's get the hell out of here. Find you something to eat and yeah, you could use a shower. Blood baths don't count.” A poor joke but it helped with Dean's mood a little. His brother was showing his acceptance in his own way. Crackin' lame jokes and being a solid anchor for him. “And Dane, he does not look like a Gargoyle. They were red or blue or green. Dean's more of a... Dungeons and Dragons character, or Balrog. World of Warcraft.” the atmosphere lightening up, a jovial air coming to sweep away the tension. 

“Nerd.” Dean chuckled. “You're just jealous that these,” he opened up his 14 foot wide wings at his brother, “Can get me any job in Hollywood. My devilish good looks don't hurt either.”

“I'll say.” Castiel said and pulled Dean over to kiss him on the lips. Fully. 

Dean's eyes went comically wide at the unexpected assault of his mouth. Then a wave of love flow between them. Filling his senses with belonging and acceptance. His Mate didn't care what he looked like. Even now. When it looks like he'll never turn human again. Cas is surprising him with how close he's being. How far he's digging his tongue into Dean's mouth and hands grasping at his sides. Pulling him in close as if Dean would float away. 

“I love you.” Cas whispered and hugged tighter. “This is just packaging. Your soul is what I crave, need.” Kissing him again, burrowing his head into the crook of Dean's neck, seeking the warmth there. He didn't know what came over him all of the sudden. His Dean was here and still alive. He didn't loose himself in the spell. Isn't giving up, but even if he did, Cas knew that he would grip Dean tight and raise him up and away from the edge again and again. Tell him how much he's needed, wanted, loved. 

Dean finally looked up and saw no less then 8 people and the conscious Drauglin staring at the two love birds. Cricket still sleeping, and the only one not privy to the PDA. Dean smirked and wrapped the two of them up in his wings and dove right back into Cas's mouth. Cas and Dean spent time hugging and kissing each other, their love started with him as a freak and this was just better for Cas to get his arms around then some big monster. Now they could walk side by side instead of one carrying the other. Fingers could lace together like Cas had hoped. They could sleep in the same bed and complain about morning breath. A step in the right direction. His optimism was refreshing to Dean's mind.

“Hey, how did you find us anyhow? Meg said she lost her phone before she could tell you guys where to go.”

Cas smiled serenely. “Would you believe that I followed my heart? I knew you were here. Something was pulling me to this spot. I felt elated when we got closer and closer.” A hand dragged up Dean's arm to cup his face, going in for another kiss.

Balthazar passed behind them, “That, and, Sam texted us.”

Cas cursed under his breath as Dean let out a huffing laugh. Fondness in his gaze as he watched his Mate correct his British friend, “I knew where you were first. The cell phone... coincidence.” and waved his hand in a dismissive way. “We do share a profound bond.”

“'Bout to get more profound.” Balth snickered. 

Dean smacked him with a wing that snapped out from behind him. Balth squawked and stumbled. Dean feigned ignorance at Castiel's firm look. “They have a mind of their own.” Shrugging. Making the wings twitch erratically. “See?”

“And yet until this point they were behaving themselves.”

“You make them want to misbehave.” Dean knew it was a lame line but Cas grinned anyway for the effort and they resumed their interrupted kiss. When they came up for air, Cas breathed hard, looking accusing and alluring to his mate. 

“I'm... glad your tongue is still...” his fingers split and wiggled. Dean winked, damn proud he could still pleasure his Mate without needing to be fully one form or the other. Cas seemed ok with doing it with a Drauglin, so long as Dean was at the helm of course, and Dean was pretty sure Cas would be a-OK with a human, but this mix and match body? 

Cas kissed him again before Dean's mind wandered too far. Cas was somehow able to feel out Dean's emotions even with the communication spell worn off. Or maybe that's just a Cas and Dean thing. They just knew. 

Dean thinks he can work with this body. And eventually, when he gets to be fully human again, he can really feel Cas as he's meant to. Until then... there was the other option. 

“Cas? Babe? There's something I should have discussed with you like, _forever_ ago.” Dean frowned and pulled Cas off to the side. 

Dane quirked a fan to Dean, still amazed at seeing the mostly human outside of their mindscape. No one in control of these woods. It still felt like a dream. One whiff of the smoky air proving that it wasn't. There could be no way this was all in someone's head with the stench of burning flesh in the air. Dane got to his feet and went over to Cricket, making sure his mother was still alright after being knocked out. He could feel his own body, how worn out it still is. Sleep pulling at him. There wasn't anything else they could do tonight. They couldn't exactly run or leave so much evidence laying around. And all of the humans were exhausted. They'd figure out a game plan in the morning. This spot in the woods was pretty far from the nearest human house so he was confident they would be safe for that long at least. He curled up next to his mother and watched her breathing for a few minutes, then carefully adjusted her sleeping position she she wouldn't wake up with a sore neck with how her head was angled. He used his right wing to extend his mother's left wing, and covered her up with it, retaining some kind of heat and comfort. Laying his own wings over them both for a few moments before tucking his wings around himself and falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

Meg was still in the Impala, comforting Missouri and filling in the blanks as best she could. The last fifty years of human experience were basically either ignored or slept through when she was Drauglin. When Missouri asked about the war the country was in, the one that her and her fiance were running from, Meg reluctantly told her that we lost that one. Missouri wept for a long time. Meg comforted her and told her if they'd stayed and fought, they would have likely died. Knowing that her fiance died anyway, didn't help. At least she was still alive. Through tears, Missouri told Meg all about her fiance, the world they lived in, their families, the war, and what she could remember about that time. Meg listened to it all, knowing that her friend needed a kind ear as much as she did information. The world now is different but the same. Technology was a hard sell but it helped Meg to get her friend to focus on things other then wars and death. The information Meg had on the 70's, were eye opening for her and Meg tried explaining the revolutions that happened while she'd been in hibernation. 

At first, Missouri was sitting in the middle of the Impala's back bench seat, but Meg had inched her way closer to hug her and be a shoulder to lean on. Missouri drifted off at some point, somewhere between mobile phones and the birth of the internet. More history lessons will come, and Meg was happy to teach. She was already planning on giving Missouri a bed at her house until something more permanent could be set up. Thankfully, she used an alias for the base so it might take them a hot minute to figure out where she currently lived. By then they'll likely be long gone. Meg was pretty sure the Hunters could help with teaching them how to stay off the radar until new aliases could be formed for both of the women. For now though, Meg silently closed the door and slept with the frail woman leaning against her with a fist wound into her jacket like a safety line. The world would be strange and dangerous, but, they'll make it.

Bobby and Rufus were spent. The others may have done some fighting that night, but who was it that had held everything down? Made four very important spell circles in one night? Drove for half a day and nearly all of the ones previous? Been the steady rock of reason and authority for more days then they could count? Making tough decisions. They were spent. Tired. Exhausted as well. Each spell does take a toll on the castor, but they kept that information to themselves. Nothing comes for free, even spells take some energy to activate. 

They knew there wasn't really a choice. Since they couldn't fight as fast and fierce as the younger members of their party, they took on all of the other rolls. But now? They just wanted sleep. Ellen and Jo helped them with that. Setting up a large tent and laying out a few sleeping bags flat on the ground. A flap on the inside that Ellen firmly stated as separating 'his' and 'hers' side. Bobby and Rufus were obsequious and practically fell into the tent sleeping. Ellen went to the area where she'd last seen Dean and Cas and whisper shouted at them, “You two can have the jeep to sleep in, Sam's already passed out in the front of the jeep but there's room in the back if you fold down the rear seat. Meg and that black lady are in the car but I'd leave them alone. The lady had been through a lot and I wouldn't want to wake them if you open any of the doors.”

“We hear ya.” Dean said back, “And Ellen? Thank you.”

“I'm just glad everything worked out.” he could hear the shrug. “More or less. At least you're still standing. You could have easily ended up as a puddle of goo like Walker from a botched spell. I call that a win.”

Dean's throat went a little dry so Castiel answered for him. “Thank you. We will get by.” and then, “Goodnight, Ellen.”

“Night Boys. No more problems tonight.” Ellen knocked on a tree and headed towards the tent, pulling Balthazar from his doze while leaning against the jeep. The poor guy was probably at a loss for what his duty was now that there was nothing more they could do tonight. “Come on, there's room on my side of the tent for ya.”

“Flattered, but, alas, I play for the other team.”

Ellen snorted and put a hand more firmly around his shoulders as they walked, “Well then, all the more reason for you to sleep on our side.”

Balthazar chuckled and let himself be led. He paused outside of the tent after Ellen entered with a change of clothes. “Shouldn't there be a watch on guard?”

Ellen frowned, looking around their makeshift camp. “No one would sneak up on two big fuckin' dragons and 6 Hunters. We're safe. And if anyone comes by that's uninvited? We'll just have Dean tell them bad jokes till they die.”

Balth grinned tiredly and yawned. “Ya know, Dean sounds differently then I thought he would. All I heard this whole time were chirps and growls. He really is quite a good looking man.”

Ellen glanced to where the lovebirds were still probably macking in the woods. “Even now. Yes. I can see it. Of course, I'm a sucker for freckles. I had only met John Winchester's sons a handful of times, years and years ago. He may have grown up but, he's still too young for me. And, I think, he's already spoken for.” She grinned peacefully. Glad a Hunter found someone to share their life with that's alright with the craziness surrounding Hunters. 

Balth nodded firmly and hunkered down with the ladies on one side and the privacy divider for the tent on the other. He could hear Rufus's sleepy snores starting and nudged the flimsy tent flap for Rufus to lay on his side and was amused that he complied. 

The whole site quieted down and slept, save for the two souls in the woods. Having a very important and long overdue conversation. 

“So?” Dean scuffed a shoe in the dirt. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say? I finally get to see you,” he stops, hand wiping his eyes and frowning. “You survive all this and separate from Dane, and you want to risk your life for another chance?”

Dean shrugged, knowing that he didn't consider his own life worth all this trouble but still wanting to live it. The depression he was in easing a little now that he knows that Dane can live without him there, sharing that body. That he himself will _live_. But as what? Some Hunters would still see him as a monster even though he looks more human now then he had for nearly a year. With some, it's all or nothing. He'd be continuing to put everyone at risk. Sure it's easier to hide himself now, but, he didn't want to hide anymore. His wings itched and he ran his nails down the membrane absently. 

He was dying to know what he looked like but there was no full size mirror simply tucked away in the Impala or that jeep Ellen showed up in. He was grateful that the ladies were prepared for camping out because none of them thought to buy a damned tent or gear. He came back to the present when he felt Cas suddenly behind him, lightly scratching at the base of his wings. _Damn_ that felt nice. 

Cas could only use one hand, the other cast making it very annoying to try and be close to his lover. So he did what he could to soothe Dean's worries. “I don't care what you look like. I'm glad you're alive.” And kissed the shoulder that he wasn't massaging and lightly scratching. Dean tucked his wings in closer to his body so he could turn around and face Cas without knocking him over. It would take time to get used to the feel of wing tips brushing by his legs. He looked down and realized that he was still only wearing boxers, (which were bloody now, yuck) and was running around barefoot. His feet must have thicker padding because he barely noticed. 

The chill in the air made him shiver which translated to his wings wrapping around him and Cas more fully. Cas was startled but pleased and snaked his good arm behind Dean's back to reciprocate. “Let's get you warm.” Cas said simply and tried to see over the wing wrist to where everyone was located. He could feel Dean hmm contentedly, breathing in and sighing as if resigning to some chore. 

“Rather just stay here forever. You are comfy as hell, Cas.” and dipped his head closer to Castiel, fingers carding through his black hair while Cas gave a low grunt of reproach for the delay. 

“Dean. That wasn't a suggestion. I'm freezing out here, so you must be too. We're going to the jeep.” And pinched one of the wing membranes to get Dean to loosen his grip. 

Dean amplified the effect of the injury, and rubbed his wing with his hand and Cas took that chance to pull out of the hug, dragging Dean behind him with his hand clamped on Dean's wrist. They got to the clearing and kept on walking past to where everyone was set up and sleeping. No one wanting to look at the smoldering remains for long. They let it burn to nothing. They couldn't douse it so they just let it go. The longer it burned the less they'd have to bury or hide. Dean forced himself to look away. Aware that he's still got dried blood caking his body. 

Cas read his mind and after getting to the jeep, quietly pulled out a couple of water jugs. Without saying a word, Cas helped bathe Dean with a rag and the water, cleaning every spot so that Dean didn't wake up with the reminder of what happened on his skin. It will probably be burned into his memories and soul for a very long time, but for now, Castiel didn't want Dean to think about it. Cas washed his own hands off as well, flaking off the bits of cast plaster that had some blood stains on it from the cleaning. Dean frowned at the cast and a tear fell down his cheek.

“I'm so sorry.” he choked out a hoarse whisper. “Sorry. So sorry.” hugging him tightly. 

“I'm not.” Castiel said and kissed Dean's cheek. “I'm not sorry you saved our lives. Over and over again.” He kissed Dean's other cheek. “You've been injured far worse then this. By all of those evil bastards...” Cas looked away and said quietly, “And me.”

Dean froze and gaped at him. “No! No no, just, no.” and pulled him back in, hand on the back of Cas's head to make them look into each others eyes. “Ok. Let's just, uh. Start over. Whatever bad thing happened in the past, is forgiven, forgotten. That sound good to you?”

Cas squinted at Dean but eventually nodded. “Deal. But this also means that you have to forgive yourself.”

Dean balked a little but the stern look from his Mate shut his mouth. “Ok, I'll try.” he said, looking anywhere but Cas. 

Castiel knew it was as good as he was going to get that night and nodded. Dean was really shivering now, skin damp and the night winds were picking up a little. The trees swaying in the moon light, casting shadows everywhere and sending tiny currents of air rushing by them. 

“Cold as balls out here. Let's get to bed.” Dean said as if it were his idea the whole time and quietly pulled the back hatch open. Wings unfolding and folding again as he tried not to move the jeep with his crawling form. He knew how loud he could get with Sam sleeping in the front seat like that. His little brother had different sleep patterns based on what happened the day before. Now, Dean knew this was the kind of Sam-sleep that meant he could be moderately loud but can't jostle him too much. If it were a normal night a year ago, Sam could wake up wielding a knife or gun, depending on what they'd been hunting in that town. Right now, Sam will probably sleep till noon or later if they let him. And Dean is determined for that to happen. His little brother deserves it and more. 

Once Dean got the seat set down and blankets adjusted, Cas eased into the rear of the jeep after him, closing the hatch behind himself and sealing them inside for the night. After some shuffling, they found that Dean couldn't possibly be the little spoon so Cas took up that position. They used Cas's trench coat as a pillow and Dean's right wing as a blanket over them both. Cas insisting on using the second blanket over Dean's wings, ignoring his silent protest that that's what his wings are meant for. 

Cas whisper-scolded, “They are a part of your body and deserve warmth too.” shuffling around until he could get the blanket to cover as much of Dean's huge wings as possible. Dean finally helping him out using his toes to tuck himself up under wing and blanket.

“Happy?” Dean mock grumbled, a kiss just on the horizon for Cas's care and attention.

“Almost.” Cas stated gravely and wiggled his rear end into Dean's front and pulled Dean's arm in front of himself, hugging it to his chest. “That's better. Night, Dean.”

Dean huffed a quick affectionate chuckle and kissed the back of Cas's head. “Night, Babe.”

They were asleep before they knew it. Comfortable and at peace laying there, scrunched up in the back hold of a jeep. Legs entwined and tail slipping in as well for warmth. For tonight, all was as well as it could be.

The morning had other plans.

The jeep's door flew open with a panicking Ellen in the entrance. The former Drauglin, Scientist, and Moose in the jeep all shot up from their dead sleep with fists, wings, and cast raised in defense and offense. “They're gone!”

The three in the jeep squinted at her. The sun rising behind her made her look like an angel descending from heaven to yell at them. “They're just gone! They vanished!”

Dean's rough voice spoke up first, “Who? Who's 'gone'.”

“The dragons!” 

They willed their eyes to focus on the campsite behind her so she backed up, showing that there was indeed, a lack of Drauglin's in the area. Dean frowned looking back to Ellen. “They didn't vanish.”

“They did! There's no sign of either of them!” She started to pace, behind her, Dean could see Bobby and Rufus stretching out after leaving the tent. Not looking the slightest worried. Dean relaxed a bit from that and flopped onto his side again, pulling Cas down with him. Sam gave a tired chuckle. 

“So glad you're finding this _amusing_!” Ellen snapped, pushing Cas aside just enough to pull out her supply bag. Dean's teasing look darkening on her behalf when she pulled out a gun and started to reload it from last nights' excitement. 

Dean composed himself and said calmly. “They're hunting down breakfast. It's not a problem.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Because I know Dane. He wouldn't ditch us.” Dean sat up again, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I bet you twenty bucks that they're gonna come back to camp with some kind of predator for breakfast. Unless they can't find one, then it'll be a deer, a big ass buck or two. Those are easy enough to find just about anywhere.” Dean frowned a little but knew his Drauglin half pretty well. They would want to give the humans something grand for a thank you gift. Deer is what you eat on a random Wednesday, cougar or bear is for special occasions. They generally tended not to go after the more rare animals, or ones just too small to catch for them, like rabbits and foxes. Being the forest caretakers means keeping the balance. And forests need their predators just as much as they need strong prey. When the predators are gone, the prey get abundant and then weak.

Dean found himself sniffing at the morning air, looking into the distance. He saw the tension slowly leave Ellen, glad that since Bobby and Rufus also looked nonplussed at the absence, that she'll feel more at ease. “They're harmless.” he reassured around another yawn and found Cas was already sleeping again. Sam was in the front, checking his phone for something before he too settled back down in a more comfortable position. Dean added, “Don't freak out if they set it on fire once they get back here. They like to cook the meals themselves. They're most likely having some family time.”

Ellen let out a deep breath and stopped pacing. Looking back at the tent where her daughter was still sleeping heavily and that British guy was just now stirring. Nature calling probably. Even though Ellen and Jo had been helping them for months now, she still felt like she was just joining the party. Wanting to do more then stand around, she joined up with the other Hunters and helped make a more human-centric breakfast. Nothing against getting meals for free from their dragon friends, it's just, she's not sure she could stomach eating a mountain lion steak for breakfast. At least, not by itself. She thought about it, and decided that she didn't want to come off as ungrateful for the dragon's gift. Half suspecting that it would only hurt feelings, and break nothing more, of her person, she'd rather just accept it for what it is. Which is whatever they intend it as. Be it, simply providing breakfast, showing off their hunting skills, giving a gift, practice for Cricket to get back into hunting for herself after months imprisoned, or what. It wasn't worth the risk of _not_ eating the meat and seeing how they react. 

Thankfully, it was more then one very old bear, there were two bucks. Just like Dean said. Dean, who now had twenty bucks to his name. Ellen had venison before and thanked the big members of their group repeatedly for the meal. Dane looked proud, and Cricket looked even more proud of her boy hunting and taking them down. They had to travel a ways away for the bear, but it was worth it to hear the congratulations and praise from all of their human friends. There was a proper pack of humans at this point. They felt alright leaving them alone while they got breakfast.

Once Dane and Cricket settled down, Dean hid a grin when he heard his big boy tell his mom what everyone's name was and what they do. Dean was glad that Dane retained so much from their time together, and that Cricket and he were doing so well after reuniting. They'd been gone till about noon, presumably talking about this that and everything. Which Dean was very happy to hear. Not only for the bonding, but also the fact that he could still hear them, understand Dane and Cricket. He'll have to have a chat with Missouri soon enough, talking about what happened since she last walked on two legs. And, what it must be like for her to basically come back from the dead. At the moment, Missouri seems content to chat with Meg and it looked like they'll be friends for a good long while. 

Still, he couldn't help getting up from his spot next to Cas on the Impala's hood and sitting close to the beautiful black lady who was now swimming in some of Ellen's spare clothes, Ellen was by no means big, but Missouri was starving thin when she was changed. 

“Hey Mom. What's going on? Gotta put some meat on your bones! Introduce you to the good stuff. Burgers and Pie.” He clearly looked just a few years younger then her, but the fondness in his voice eased the shock of being called “Mom,” by a ridiculously tall freckled white man that _meant it._

“Dean? I'm uh, I am doing quite well, thank you.” and grinned a little. “I remember you, but everythin' is a little, hazy? You'll have'ta forgive me, Child.”

Dean's grin got wider. The moniker coming so easily to her lips, made him feel loved. He decided to keep calling her Mom until she told him not to. (That still hasn't happened yet, and Sam joined in soon after.) “It's alright, Mom.” he said and scooted a little closer to her, wrapping a wing around her back and enjoying the startled sound she made at the feel of his wing fingers hugging her side. Meg batted them away like it was a normal everyday occurrence. Dean awkwardly angled his wing out to ruffle Meg's curly black hair and yelped when she pinched the thin membrane too hard. “Mooo- _ooom,_ did you see what she did?”

Missouri laughed openly and shoved at Dean's side. “Don't go teasing her, Child!” she tried and failed to put on a reprimanding face, “Keep it up and I'll slap the freckles offa you!”

Dean gawped and laughed so hard he nearly fell off of his seat. Wings flailing and knocking into shit behind him. 

“Can't take you anywhere's.” she added, a mirthful look in her eyes. 

Once Dean got his balance back, forgetting how to stand with such huge appendages slapped onto his back, he leant down and kissed her forehead. “I'll behave.”

She patted the side of his cheek and felt joy well inside her. She always wanted to have kids with James. After remembering what had happened, she was afraid she'd never get the chance again. Unable to even think of lovin' someone so deeply as her James. But it seems as though fate decided to give her a boy all the same. She was told that Dean's first mother died when he was just 4 years old, being forced to even help raise his younger brother who was just 6 months old. No child should have to grow up without their parents. From what she understood, is that their father was never around, they moved often and had no family ties besides each other. She looked over to the man that Meg named, Bobby singer, and knew that he was trying his best to fill in the role the brothers so clearly needed. 

Missouri made up her mind, then and there, to look after them if they needed it. And even when they say they don't. Because intended or not, she feels connected to Dean and therefore to his brother. They can help each other out. Missouri didn't want to dwell on the fact that if she had relatives, that they'd all think she was dead or had forgotten about her. Thinking that she and James simply made it to Canada when they were escaping the draft and racist bigots that saw their love as a thing to despise. It's _love_. It shouldn't matter that James was white and she was black. They loved each other for years. Grew up in the same town, laughed and cried and lived together. 

She wiped her face, finding her fingers coming back wet when she thought about how she wanted them to die together as well. But Cricket wanted to live, and forced those wings to open during her free fall off of that cliff all those years ago. She didn't realize how it was back then. That their merging was so deep it was seamless. Cricket loved her Kazz and Missouri loved her James. And the ache would always be there. 

She startled when she felt arms around her, gripping the hand in front and following it up to the tearful gaze. Dean, her son, could feel her emotions as sure as his own and knew the pain she must be going through. “I'll be alright.” she assured, patting his arm, wiping away some tears, “I've got my family.” she said and reached over and patted Meg on her arm as well. Remembering Cricket adopting her as well. Her gaze swept around the campfire, most everyone was looking at her with concern and love, silent but also supportive. “I've got a _big_ family.” 

“You do, Mom.” Dean hugged tighter and let go, wiping off his face and clearing his throat. “Bigger then most.” Dean shook his limbs out from the feels parade, and gestured wryly at Dane to force focus on someone else. “Especially with Fat ass over there.”

'Watch it, Dean.' Dane chirped. His long tail snaked along the ground and tried to sweep Dean off of his feet but Dean was ready for it and launched into the air for a second of flight before landing on his hands and knees clumsily. Surprising himself that he could fly even though it should be obvious to anyone with eyes. With the size of his wings, perfectly proportioned to his body, he should have no problem flying, or even carrying a passenger. They were big. The take off and landing would simply need some work.

Bobby threw a small bone at Dean and then one at Dane. “Knock it off you two or you're walking home.”

Both of them stuck forked tongues out at Bobby who's glare didn't last long. “Idjits.”

After the late breakfast, everyone just sat around the fire and chatted. Grateful for the calmer day. Dane and Cricket went out for their own lunch and supper, still wiped out and empty feeling from having an entire person magically ripped from their bodies and minds. The very catalyst for their own Drauglin bodies to form in the first place. It was quiet in their own heads, the background hum of an active mind that was not their own was now silent. Neither one of them knew what it was like until it just _was_. It would take more then a single night to get used to it. 

They'll need time to get back to full steam and basically the breakfast they brought back for everyone didn't really cut it. Dane invited Dean to join them, test out his 'chicken wings' but Dean declined. He wanted to spend time with Cas, 'alone'. And Dane didn't ask for clarification, just made a gagging noise before turning tail and running into the woods.

Ellen still didn't like the two Drauglin's out and about just because there's so many people that would want to punish or even kill them for all that's happened. She never voiced her opinions, but felt that she wasn't alone, worrying about them. But, like they'd proven time and time again. There wasn't much that could take on a Drauglin without some serious firepower involved. And the few that had that firepower are currently either running or in hiding. Neither one a threat. Now they just had to get Azazel and Alistair out of the picture. Azazel still had loyal henchmen and Meg's brother. Alistair was a master torturer. In the hearts and minds of everyone there, both need to die for their crimes. 

But first, they need to get the Drauglin's somewhere safe. They are right now, but the peace wont last. Soon they'll need to find a permanent sanctuary. The island. 

Now that Dean's cut off from the Drauglin's mind, more or less, he only has a vague idea where the island is now. But he knows if it's still there, it's the best place for them. Something tells him that an ancient mating ground like that for dragons wont be let go without a fight. Dean was curious what it looked like in person as well. Wondering if the other Drauglin's would take one look at him and label him an abomination just like the rest of humanity would. Not belonging anywhere now. It hurt to think about. All of this, all of the planning and spells and running and fighting... only to be ruined by Gordon fucking Walker. Who would have died anyway even if the asshole had succeeded in turning back into a human. There was literally no rhyme or reason for it. 

Dean refuses to admit that right now, he might actually know what Walker was thinking. To die as a human was better then dying as a monster. 

Dean thrust a hand through his short spiked hair. Frustrated in himself for sympathizing with that murderer. Having any empathy at all. “I'm taking a walk.” He announced curtly to no one in particular and got up and started walking. Cas scrambling to his feet and following after. He got a sideways glare but turned his head the other way, in a neutral way. Keeping pace with Dean's powerful strides, like this is simply how they go for walks together. Dean knew he wasn't going to run away from his Mate. Not when they're already getting deeper into the uncharted woods. Anything could happen to him here. So Dean slowed his pace a little while climbing a slight rise in the earth, and then staying at the new easy pace for Cas's benefit without making it look like he was taking it easy. 

Cas stayed silent, trying not to breath too harshly due to his bruised ribs and broken arm throwing off his balance. It seems as though Dean was having some difficulty as well with his wings constantly shifting about behind him. The horns adding a slight weight to his head and making his head dizzy trying to compensate for the unexpected mass to a human head. They were by no means huge horns, roughly three inches long past the bump, but still, added weight. The coat that Sam gave up for Dean had fresh slits up the back to accommodate the wings and were safety pinned back together at the base to keep it from flapping about. Cas studied Dean's back, posture, mannerisms. Recognizing many of them from his larger body, adapting for this different one. Cas was pleased to note that Dean did indeed have bow-legs and his tail was content to wave between his legs lazily until he had a strong emotion to convey.

Dean slowed way down, and Cas hesitated before coming up alongside him. For a little while, he was just following the trail that Dean and his wings made in the brush, but now they were entering an area of forest where there were more grasses and wildflowers. Dean turned his head slightly to the side and held his hand out a little from his waist, fingers twitching and open. Dean looked like he was nervous, glancing around again and making a fist before opening his hands again quickly, like he wasn't sure if he should be doing this. Fearing rejection. Thinking Castiel didn't want to...

Cas made a quiet, “oh!” sound which made Dean flinch then blush and hold back his amusement as Cas strode forward those two steps to firmly lace his fingers with Dean's. Cas squeezed Dean's hand while looking forward, just like Dean and after a few seconds, Dean squeezed back. A soft sigh leaving his lips as his eyes closed a little. 

Cas smiled and pulled Dean forward into the wildflowers, leading Dean to the thicker patches and feeling so romantic he could write a book. 'How to woo your dragon.'

Dean chuckled, “Not a bad title.”

Cas blanched. “I.. I didn't...”

“Yeah, that was out loud.” Dean squeezed Cas's hand and brought it up to plant a quick peck on his fingers. “Don't worry, Babe. I can't read your thoughts. And what feelings I'm getting are pretty damned muted now. Still better then I could detect back when I was human.”

Cas searched for the right thing to say but Dean didn't look like he cared about his own condition. Like he was just making a statement. Referring to his time as a human in past tense like one would their high school years. Something that happened, was memorable, but firmly set in the past. 

“Quit brooding. We're being romantic.” Dean used their joined hands to nudge at Cas's side. The wing closest stretching out and hugging Cas's other side to make them walk closer. “That's better. Like sharing a blanket.”

Cas sighed out his worry and hummed into Dean's warmth. “At least you're warm again.”

“Yeah. That's a perk. We would have to spend a fortune on heating pads if I wasn't.” Dean joked and they ambled over to a dip in the field, following it for a little while back into the thicker woods. Dean wasn't sure if Cas had been intending on laying in those flowers he had led them to, but felt like there was enough sap in the woods as it is. “Hope you were paying attention to where we were going...” Dean trailed off, looking behind them for a few seconds before shrugging. “Dane will find us.”

“Assbutt.” Castiel remarked casually. 

They walked for at least another hour and indeed, Dane did find them, but it was by total accident. He was following a herd of deer into the area and the two lovers scared them into running. But instead of _from_ , the herd was running _towards_ them. Dane nearly pouncing on the two in his thundering chase. They dove for the ground and Dane crashed into a few trees trying to stop and process what just happened because to his eye, two deer turned into a human and a baby Drauglin. 

'Dammit, Dean?!' Dane half roared once he got back to his feet. Dean was laying half on top of Cas, wings splayed out and protective. Once Dane saw the stance the two tiny figures were making he softened instantly. 'You guys ok?' and crept closer, jerking his head up to track Cricket who had taken over the chase. She didn't ask why he stopped, she probably didn't know.

Dane lowered his head closer and sniffed them out. 'I didn't hurt you guys did I?'

“We're fine. Sorry bout that, Danny.” Dean got to his feet, wings splaying and folding as he tried to get the leverage needed to just stand back up again with their added weight. Finally he just flapped them downward to give his torso the thrust upwards and pulled Cas into a stand in the same move. Feet splaying a little to stay standing and giving a thumbs up to Dane. Dean quirked an eyebrow up as Dane continued to check them over. “Stop with the mother henning. We're fine. Go grab your lunch.” His hands pushing at the lower part of the inquisitive mouth that was bigger then his whole body. 

Dane snorted at them but gingerly walked around the two on the ground to join up with Cricket. Dean was impressed with how silent they could be. Unable to hear them until they were right freakin there. Soon after they heard sounds of tree branches breaking when they went in for the kill. 

“Well... there goes that. Nothing like a walk in the woods to the sounds of deer screaming in the distance.” 

Cas grimaced as well. “Let's get back.”

“Right.” Dean grabbed at Cas's hand and pushed their fingers together again. Only after a few seconds asking if it was alright with his eyes. Cas leaned into him a little more as an answer and once again Dean wrapped them up in his wings. 

Even that interruption couldn't stop their good feelings. The buzz from being close like this. Neither one leading, but both knowing how to get back by following the trampled ground their large family made in the woods. They followed the hunt in reverse, the path going straight for awhile till it started to split. Mother and son taking on the herd at different angles. Corralling them. Dean identified Dane's footprints and they followed those as they meandered around, scuffing up the trees where his limbs couldn't slip by easily. They finally made it back to the site to the relieved sounds of their family and friends. 

“You idjits wanna explain why you left without a cell phone?”

Dean felt like being cocky, “It's not curfew yet, Dad. Street lights aren't on yet.”

Bobby went a little red in the face and was calmed down by Ellen's hand on his shoulder. “You boys eat?”

“Not yet, starving.” Dean said and headed for the Impala's hood which is doubling as a table, holding up whatever was perishable in their cooler. Dean spotted the pie immediately and hesitated, hand hovering over the plastic fork used for serving. 

“Can't you eat regular food now?”

Dean frowned, hand falling a little. “I don't know. This morning I had some of the meat they caught for us, and a bottled water. Didn't know what I could stomach. Didn't want to risk throwing up before noon. A record I intend on keeping.” He looked at Sammy with a smug grin, the kid was a lightweight and got hangovers almost before he was done drinking. But now... Dean looked thoughtful and the others noticed his dilemma, a little sad to see that it's there at all. By all rights he should have been 100% Grade A human by now. That's why Bobby had been saving that pie for him. Now, Bobby was across the way, cursing himself out for rubbing it in his boy's face if Dean wasn't able to eat it. 

“Screw it.” Dean firmed his jaw, taking a hefty portion of the apple pie and looking around, belatedly realizing that someone else might not get a slice.

Balthazar could easily read Dean's features and said loudly, “We all had the lemon and banana creme ones before you got here. Couldn't wait all day for you, Darling. They were getting warm.”

Dean took him at his word and pushed the pie to the side of his plate to make room for more food. Loading up on the things that would go bad if left un-refrigerated. The old green Coleman cooler was off to the side, holding the melted ice water for anyone that wanted it. Dean dipped a cup in it, grateful for the refreshing drink as he balanced his heavy plate of food and drink on over to sit next to Sam and Balth, shoving it in Sam's lap while he gets his wings sorted enough to sit on one of the fallen trees from last nights battle that they were all using as a bench. 

“Never get used to these.” he grumbled, fanning the wings and tucking them in again. Wing wrists moving in out, to the left right then outwards from each other like literal spread eagle. “So damned long.” and bent the fingers of the wings to form bowls behind himself. He'll deal with them later. Determined to figure it out so he can drive the Impala back home. 

Balth scooted over to let Cas sit on his other side and everyone got back to eating. Surreptitiously glancing at Dean now and then. Worried that he's going to get sick with all of the regular food on his plate. 

Dean mumbled, getting a hefty forkful of the apple filling and crust, weighing it in his fingers, letting the excess fall back to the plate instead of smear on his face. “Here goes nothing.” And shoved it into his mouth filling it up completely and making it hard for his mouth to close all the way, lips struggling to seal, forming an 'o' as best they could. He swallowed a bit and _moaned sinfully_ at the taste. “Owhmaygawed.” eyes rolling and breathing out of his nose. Mouth too full to chew properly. Mmm-ing at the tastes and swallowing part of it at a time. Savoring every single morsel. Finally, but before he finished it, he had enough space in his mouth to talk, albeit with puffed out cheeks. “SoofumbkingoobSabby.” 

“You're welcome.” Sam said with a pleased smirk on his face. “I speak squirrel.” he informed Balth on Dean's other side. 

“Moofse. Youbshoubgeduhpeffse,Sabby. Moofses eadds...” swallow a bit, “Apples.” Dean snorted, nearly loosing a chunk of pie but a hand to his mouth kept the precious pastry in. He mmmed once again and swallowed the rest with grandiosity. Holding a hand to his stomach and waiting. Everyone's eyes locked onto him when he realized he was the main attraction again and shrugged. “Feel fine. _Thank God_!” and dove into the next forkful of cinnamon and apple heaven. A collective sigh of relief from the group as they returned to their meals. At least he could have that again.

The night went on and the Drauglin's once again returned, full and tired. This time taking up positions on either side of their makeshift camp to sleep. Sentinels. 

Jo spoke up to those around her, but in the silence, her voice carried to the rest. “So this is it? We eat drink and be merry? We're done?”

Bobby sat more upright, he'd been leaning against the jeep next to Rufus and Ellen who looked at each other. “We aren't done, but you ladies can be.” And grinned a little. “We appreciate all the help you've given us, but there's not much more that's gotta be done. We are gonna wait till morning and follow them,” He pointed to Dane then Cricket, “To the -” he paused for a second, changing what he was going to say with, “The place where Cricket was born. Some woods that were part of protected wildlife. She doesn't know what the current name for it is, but knows the way there. We'll make sure they get there safe and sound, or as close as they'll let us get.”

Rufus frowned a little but didn't comment that that wasn't the plan at all. The Drauglin's were going to their nesting island and there was no chance at all that humans would be allowed anywhere near it. Killed on sight or changed into one of them. Dean might have a chance, lookin' the way he does, but the rest? It would be the end of them. But Bobby was probably right, the fewer hunters know about the island the better. Ellen and Jo didn't need to know because their roll in this mess is done. They'd worked hard for so long and deserve to get out while they still can. 

Rufus had an idea and said, “And if you don't mind, please give Meg and Missouri a lift back home? I'm sure they don't want to be witness to the things we're going to do to the man keeping her brother hostage.” He murmured that last part. Meg was still off to the other side close to the brothers, explaining the processed food to Missouri. 

Bobby nodded, fixing the brim on his hat. “Yep. We'll get'r brother back, if Azazel hasn't already let him go.”

“There's something we didn't consider.” Rufus growled. “What's the demon gonna do when he realizes that he can't get a pet dragon anymore?” 

Eyes cast downward in thought and dread. All they could hope for is that Azazel keeps to his old habits. He hadn't killed or purposefully changed a human before, just dealt with monsters. They could kind of see how he'd bend his rules for a rare dragon, but now? It was anyone's guess. But one thing was for sure. They could NOT have the Drauglin's in tow when they confront Azazel. They had to be safe at the island, far away from them so there wasn't a chance in the world that he could get his hands on either one of them. 

Meg startled Rufus when she laid a hand on his elbow, coming up from behind the jeep. “I understand.” she murmured, sighing heavily as if this was just one more blow to bear. “But. I don't like it.” Jaw firming. “Crowley is my brother and... and if that bastard hurt him..” Fists forming, tears prickling her eyes before falling. She shot her gaze over to Cricket, sleeping soundly, curled around one whole quarter of the site. “But I get it. She's gotta be long gone.” Her hand came up to Rufus's elbow again and gripped it tightly. “Don't let him get away with this. Any of it.” more tears but from rage. 

Bobby came to her side, hands on her shoulders. “He wont. Trust me.” 

Meg nodded. Satisfied that she saw the same kind of fury in the old Hunter's eyes for Dean getting hurt. Tortured. Manipulated, and mind fucked. Meg knew Azazel will die and she took comfort in that. She only hoped that they'd be able to find Alistair as well. He was a rogue worker. A ghost. They'll just have to beat the location of the grand torturer from Azazel before they kill him for good.

Part of her was upset with the bloodthirsty thoughts, but so long as he had her family, they were the enemy. She'd seen first hand the evidence that damned their souls. They weren't worth saving. Bobby saw something in her expression and said with some concern. “Revenge... is a tricky thing. It doesn't stop. That's why we are handling it. I don't want you goin' down that path.” he pulled her in for a hug, whispering, “We'll get the job done, you focus on healing. Take care of Missouri. She's lost and alone in this world. She could use a friend she knows. The rest of us? None of us had much time spent with her before or after the spell. She needs you. Can you help her find her legs?”

Meg wiped off her face, smearing the tear streaks with the grime that was there since yesterday. She hiccuped but then answered wetly, “Yeah. Yes.” Nodding fervently to assure them and herself that it's going to be alright. 

“Atta girl.” Bobby pulled her in again and swayed a little as they hugged. The others getting scarce to give them a minute. “Now. I think Missouri needs someone to explain the game AP with the ticked off birds. She saw Balth playing it yesterday and he's shit at describing things.”

Meg chuckled and nodded again. “On it.” and straightened out her clothes as she found Missouri sitting by herself where Meg left her, close to Cricket but apart from the boys she didn't know. She pulled out her newly charged phone from the Impala and brought it over. “This is a game where you throw birds at pigs.” Grinning at the confused expression on the woman's face. “Here, I'll show ya. It's stupid but fun.”

Bobby found Ellen again, informing her that Meg and Missouri should be good to go. The fewer people, the better. The Impala is gonna get crowded real quick anyways. No doubt, Dean will not be dissuaded from driving, so that leaves one other in the front seat due to those boat sails on his back, it'll likely be Castiel. So that means that Sam, Rufus and Bobby will be stuck in the backseat. Bobby shook his head. If it's like that, those two love birds would crash with all of their heart eyes nonsense. “Tomorrow? I got shotgun.” And aimed his sword cane at the gentlemen that were in the middle of another celebrity name game.

Dean was about to protest loudly but was silenced with a glare. 

A hand went up to calm his oldest adopted brat. “Dean's driving, but I wanna get to where we're goin' in one piece. So you two Idjits,” he aimed it at Cas and Dean respectfully, “Are gonna stay on other ends. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Not like I don't know how to drive like a pro.”

“Be thankful we're _letting_ you drive. Could just as easily tell Dane to haul your ass.” Bobby went obviously thoughtful, finger on his chin and looking up philosophically, “Makes sense, that. If we get pulled over, kinda hard to explain the extra appendages our driver has. Don't you agree, Rufus?”

Rufus made some loud sounds of agreement.

Dean shut up after that. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE!   
> Fluff will ensue. But, the story's not over yet.   
> give me ideas you lovely peoples for the sequel! I want to do so much crack it's ridiculous!


	40. Don't You Cry No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The finale! 
> 
> I'm so glad you stuck with us to the end, hopefully you enjoyed it and will come back later for the sequel. It will have fluff and weirdness and its going to be my NANOWRIMO challenge. Please please please lemme know what you thought of this fic and what you'd like to see in the sequel :) so much love, thank you so much for all the support :)  
> See ya later

Chapter 40:

Don't You Cry No More

 

 

 

Balthazar, having heard the car seating arrangements being doled out, informed, “The chopped liver is back.”

Bobby frowned. Right, six men left, one Impala. “Whose riding Dane?”

A chorus of hasty, “ _Not it_!”s rose up from the group. Dane hissed at them. Treated like a horse but also that no one trusted him as one. He stalked into the woods. Dean chuckled at Dane's expression and ran after him, giving a wave to the others, “I got him. You all... ride in the car. Rufus is right. It'd be hard to explain the wings.” said wings twitched a little sadly and he jogged after Dane. The others only hearing, “Wait up!” before the camp went silent. Cricket wondered what the hell just happened.

“Well hell.” Bobby took off his hat and brushed off some dirt from his pant leg. Glaring at the others.

Sam approached Bobby. “We have enough ingredients for two shrinking spells but only used one.”

“Yeah?” Bobby warily eyed Sam.

Sam shrugged, “Shrink me.” He got a bewildered expression from Bobby and surprised laughter from Balthazar. “I do not want to steal Dean's chance at driving for the first time in forever. Shrink me until we find another car.”

Castiel approached him. “No. It's too risky, Sam. It's not life or death now, we have time.”

Sam responded calmly. “We don't know how long till our luck runs out. I'm laid up with my injuries...” trailing off when he noticed Castiel's arm cast. Shaking his head as if that wasn't the point. “Guys, I'm cool with it.”

Bobby reasoned. “We were fine with Dean being little because dragons are just hardier then people. Stronger. Do you know how easily injured you could get? By _accident_?”

Missouri came up next. “It was frightening being small. I trusted you to hold us, but I was also terrified. Trust me, you _don't_ want to do that.” Looking to Bobby next. “We will find another car. He is not going to risk his life for nothing.” and nodded as if that was that.

Bobby grinned at her and pat her shoulder. “You heard the lady.” Knowing full well that Sam wouldn't dismiss her judgment. He gestured around, everyone agreed. “See? Ok, let's take a vote. Who wants to shrink themselves?” No hands. “Sam?” Sam's rose, but Balthazar's hand sprang up with a giddy look on his face. “Shut up, Balth.” Bobby pointed a finger at him, and Cas pulled Balth's hand down. “Nay's have it. We're going car shopping.”

Jo piped up, “We saw a few on the side of the road with for sale signs on the way here, one's no more then an hour away. You got cash?”

They pooled their money, and for once, probably because Missouri was watching, didn't discuss hot-wiring the car. Now, they had options, Mystery car versus Impala. Another quiet discussion wondering if Dean could even drive in a straight line with his 'extra features'. The new car will trail Baby, making sure they wouldn't go into a ditch.

Half an hour later, Dane comes back with Dean, walking and jogging respectively, to find everyone finishing packing up. The evidence now being buried or scattered. Cricket was almost done covering up the charred remains that once was Walker's body, with dirt and rocks. Sam noted the lack of plants on top like she had done for her first deceased offspring. She had buried the destroyed nest and had uprooted plants around the area to have them grow on top of the mound. Representing flowers on a grave.

Realization kicked in that she was just burying Walker because he was Drauglin and it was the decent thing to do, but not going so far as making sure life would grow there again. Sam could tell that she thinks that place is tainted with evil, and Cricket would not disrespect the plants by making them grow there by force. For years it will be just a hill of dirt and rocks, hiding the abhorrence.

Sam knew this was still hard for her. Wishing that at least Dane could have been here to help her out with the immense task. Even if all of the humans had shovels and worked as a team, it would have taken days to cover up the body. Her _youngest son's_ body. As much as they didn't like Walker, he was still one of her offspring. Cricket finished up and walked around the area, seemingly weighed down with emotion. Her nose flared and she turned and looked at him watching her. Without changing her expression at all, she turned her head away again. The memory of her looking at him last time replaying in his mind because last time, she was sad, this time she was indifferent.

Sam wiped his face of the tears that suddenly dropped. He never apologized to Cricket for his actions that day. Dean caught the heavy scent of guilt in the air, strong and worrisome, tracing it back to Sam. Figuring out what his brother must be feeling and thinking and crossed the distance to him. Dean's claws accidentally caught on Sam's shirt when he pulled him behind the Impala without breaking stride. Cricket and Missouri didn't notice. Looking at the mound of dirt, facing away from the other people so the mother's expressions were unreadable.

Now away from everyone, Dean turned around to face his slightly taller brother. “Sammy. It's ok.” Dean gripped the shoulder he was holding, making sure Sam wasn't going to take off or dismiss what he's saying. Looking up into wet hazel eyes, his own greens locked firmly on. “Look, she gets it. You feel bad. You're not exactly subtle when it comes to emotions.” Dean thumbed his nose and quirked an eyebrow. “She talked with Dane, and he told me earlier. She knows why you did it. She knows you feel terrible about it. It's _no one's_ fault.”

Sam grit his teeth. “Pretty sure it's mine, Dean. I was the one with the knife and gun. _I_ killed them.”

“You didn't know! I mean, how _could_ you know?” Dean gripped Sam's shoulder when it looked like he was going to walk away. “Besides, _I was the one_ that told you to do it while I went off to try and _kill her_. Remember? We were there to get rid of the threat. We just didn't know it was so... complicated.” He was still upset about the whole thing and ran his hand through his hair. Residual feelings from the realities of that day. Dean firmed his jaw. “It's in the past. Best we can do, is move on. Learn from it. I was more at fault then you, and feel bad about everything too,” Some tears fell of his own. “Cricket already said she forgives you. Dane too. Now all that's left is for us to forgive ourselves. It was an _accident_. If we had all the information then that we do now, we would _not_ have done it. We only saw something that was mysterious, huge, kidnapping mothers, fire breathing and _dangerous_. We're _Hunters_. We get rid of dangerous things. Cricket was just following her biological impulses. She used humans because she didn't know that we could live without claws and fangs. All she saw were weak animals and made us strong. All we saw was a monster that we thought was eating people.” Dean took a breath, looking down at the ground for a few calming seconds before making sure no one else was listening in. “It was a mistake, but we're going to make it right. Right?”

Sam's watery eyes looked up again, croaking out, “Yeah.” before clearing his throat, straightening shoulders and taking a deep steadying breath. “Yes.”

“So, in order to do that, we can't be wallowing in self pity. We gotta move forward. Help get Cricket and Dane back home. _Then_. We are going to kick some _real monster's_ ass. Because I don't know about you, but I think I know some assholes that have it coming. Meg's bro Crowley needs our help. I know you'd like to get your kicks in too, so what do ya say? Wanna help save people? Hunt some things? Get back to the family business?”

Sam huffed a laugh, “You totally should have been jamming Eye of the Tiger after that speech.”

“Would have nailed it.” Dean chuckled. “We good?”

Sam nodded, knocking some tears loose and he wiped his face again. Firming his jaw. “Yeah, yeah, we're good.”

A firm slap on his little brother's back before his wings ruffled out the tension. He smoothed out the shirt fabric that his short claws had caught on, before strolling back over to his Drauglin. “You an me riding off into the sunset?”

'Scared you're gonna fall on your ass if you try flying?'

“Flamebrain. I'm awesome.” dropping his voice a few octaves, “I'm _Batman_.” Dean's wings curved menacingly. “I just don't want to upstage you.” Wings folding primly.

'Suuuure, that's the reason.' Dane laughed. Showing off his much more impressive set of wings. Same markings but sans freckles. 'Sparrow.'

“It's robin.” Dean corrected.

'Sparrow, Robin, Blue Footed Booby, don't care what bird, you're still itty bitty.' Dane brought over his huge index fingers claw and tickled Dean's side with it, getting a surprised giggle-snort and even less dignified wing spasms, with a side of reproachful glare, before tiny claws attacked his thick calloused finger. Not strong enough to leave a mark. Just one of his scaled fingers is bigger then Dean's whole body. 'Adorable.' Dane mused lightly. 'You are similar but littler then a nestling, you know that right?'

“Kick your ass...” Dean muttered, claws raking down his wing to scratch a phantom itch. Dean turned his embarrassed glare at Sam who was muffling a chuckle into his fist. A nettled finger pointed accusingly at Sam. “Yours too.”

Sam raised his hands in defeat while trying to school his features. “Whatever you say, _Batman_.”

Dean puffed up and grinned. Either not caring about the snark or not hearing it as such. “Damn right. Now.” He turned in a circle. “Ladies?”

“They already left to buy a junker so you can drive Baby.” Sam informed.

“What?”

Sam filled him in and liked seeing Dean smile like things were looking up. This time, instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, they started planning for the future. Drauglin's already know how to get to the island, and were lucky to be within a days driving distance from the ocean. Once there, they'd part ways at the shore. Dane and Cricket will continue to swim out till they reach it. No one would know if they'd make it though, and that did weigh on everyone's shoulders. Dane tried explaining the location to Dean, so that if they managed to get a boat, he could sail on out there and meet up before another Drauglin catches them. A delicate meeting for sure, but Dean was dying to know what an actual Dragon Island looks like. And of course to meet his aunt Ness. A water Drauglin.

Cas was right at Dean's side, asking for descriptions about the island, and how they'd just 'known' about it. Genetic memory and migration. Castiel's interest was more then academic, he cared deeply for them, wanting to know where it was to do research. Check on it's safety, see if it'd been discovered by humans in the fifty years that Cricket was hibernating. Or, it might be an active volcanic island that either exploded into the sea or is too hazardous to nest on anymore. Perhaps taken over by some other animal population, or pollution.

They soon found Cricket joining in the discussion, she'd never been there, so even more time had passed since it was known to have her kind. Her mother might have gone there, but there was no way of knowing for sure. The genetic memory might be hundreds of year old. Cricket was confident that Ness made it to the islands though, her sibling belonging more to the sea then land, and was getting very eager to leave and find it as soon as Drauglinly possible. After getting Cricket's information that he had gotten from her own mother, Dane's grandma, they had a vague idea what to expect.

Dean's brother and Lover were begging to go to the island just to find the mystifying wonders.

“For science.” Cas informed.

“For Hunter's and Drauglin's protection.” Sam insisted. “Think about it Dean, the more we learn about them, the better we can inform others that their mystery monster may be a Drauglin instead. How many Drauglin lives could we save when we inform them their monsters wont hurt people?”

“Fine! Ok. I get it. You can come.” Dean waved his hands for them to back up a bit. Using his wings to help push. He looked over to Balthazar, Bobby, and Rufus. “You guys want in on this too? Risk your hides for an island vacation?”

Balthazar chuckled. “I'm good, thanks, darlings.” Bobby and Rufus both agreeing to let the kids have their fun, they'll be back in the states, trying to get back to 'normal'.

Ellen arrived in a green POS with the sale sign thrown into the backseat. “Jo's taking Missouri back to Meg's place to settle down. Jo's giving them the run down on what to expect while on the run and how to do credit card scams until their new life is all set up by Ash. It takes a few days to create history.” She smirked. “So. What's the plan?”

“First things first. I need reliable WiFi.” Sam pointed at his laptop. “Gotta figure out what's going on. If Azazel has made a move now that the Base is publicly exposed. I can do that while we follow Dane and Cricket to the ocean. Right here is a WiFi dead-zone.” He waved his cell in the air, frowning at it. Unreliable calls and texts before it's back to radio silence.

Dane and Cricket were eager to go and started walking before the cars were running. Dean cursed loudly at Dane as he struggled to fit inside the drivers seat while Bobby took up shotgun as promised. Sam and Cas in the backseat with Rufus and Balthazar getting into the POS with Ellen at the wheel. Neither of them wanted to see what Dean's driving would be like first hand now that he's got three extra appendages all moving of their own accord to deal with.

Dean growled a little, got back out and folded up his wings tight and curled, but away from his waist. The tail curled around his hips and he slid in without squashing anything uncomfortably. Wiggling a little to get used to sitting on a cushioned surface again that was built for his original body. Fingers that were no longer bulky, but still clawed, grazed along the steering wheel like a prize. At least the claws weren't too long to be able to hold the wheel properly. Bobby handed over the keys and Dean practically kissed them as he put it in the ignition and she roared back to life. “Oh listen to her purr.” he damn near purred himself, but held back as he maneuvered his Baby back onto the rough dirt path.

Dane and Cricket heard them try and follow and silently made for clearer ground to make it easier. Cricket, learning how cars move now that she's outside of it, was marveling at human's things all over again. She'd seen cars before but thought they were bad, unnatural. And yes, they are strictly speaking _unnatural,_ but they were no more evil then the human that controlled it. After an hour of leading the group, she stood off to one side and let both cars pass to watch them move. Dane took over the responsibility of beating down a path and took it to heart. Making sure that for every part of their trip that did not involve regular roads, the cars would have pounded ground. Flattening out his hands and feet on the dirt and rocks to leave a trail for each tire track. It was awkward to walk with his hands and feet so close together. Feeling like he's walking on a tightrope. He thought he was doing great.

The humans would beg to differ. The Drauglin's may think that driving on their footprints was alright, it still made a very bumpy ride. Dean could tell each finger digit and palm that they drove over. Sticking his head out the window after a few tries to keep his horns from catching on the door frame, he called up, “Dane?” he got his Drauglin's attention who turned around and dipped his head down to see inside the little car. “Any roads out this way?” Dean knew perfectly well, according to the GPS that Sam set up, that there was a road not half a mile away that they were running parallel with. He just didn't want to make Dane feel like his help wasn't helping.

Dane lifted his head up high and grinned when he thankfully, _finally_ , spotted the road and double checked the area for other cars before leading them close enough to get on but not leave tracks of his own. Cricket watched the two cars bounce a little as they got onto the road and appreciated everyone going faster since they didn't have to wait up for the little humans. Dane chirped every once in awhile to let the humans know if they should turn left or right. But thankfully, it was mostly a straight shot west towards the ocean, and they found the perfect road.

Dean chirped back acknowledgment, surprising himself that he could still make that sound, and that he did it on instinct. Everyone else just looked at him before resuming what they were doing. It would take a lot to surprise them at this point. Dean wondered if he howled, would it still hurt people's ears. Reminding himself to do it only around their enemies.

Hours of driving, the sun started its climb. Stomachs were rumbling. The gas tanks were nearly empty. They found a rest stop and used the fuck out of it. The Drauglin's resting too, out of sight but within hearing. Cricket was about to go after a few horses that they found in a pasture but Dane stopped her. 'These belong to someone. And Dean likes horses. He'd be upset if we ate them.' He sighed in relief when Cricket nodded in understanding. It would have made a nice snack but Dane had learned in all his time with the humans, that some things weren't worth it.

Mother and son led the way, chirping sporadically to tell them where to go. After traveling all day, the sun was now on the decline and four more rest stops later, they could smell the salty ocean. They couldn't contain their excitement. Bounding forward, they barely missed the huge human houses that were getting thicker and thicker the stronger the ocean scent became. Growling in agitation at all the times they had to take a wooded detour, sometimes even headed away from the ocean to pass a line of houses.

'It's _right there_. We should just go.' Dane growled, looking over several hundred houses between them and the sparkling waters. 'It's beautiful and big and _right there_. If we sit here on our asses we might run out of time to go.'

'Hush.' Cricket admonished quietly, surveying the area non-stop. Ducking each time a different car passes by. Finally, their own cars found them again and pulled up fairly close-by.

Ellen and Rufus getting out. Dean would have as well, but he wasn't sure if he should be seen. The Drauglin's were naturally pretty well camouflaged, but someone would spot his winged butt exiting a classic black Impala since he's wearing Sam's clothes and parked on the street. Only his wings are camouflaged and even then, he'd need to be surrounded by rocks and trees, not well trimmed yards and asphalt.

Dean could hear them just fine, which was good because the others couldn't understand the mother and son's speech.

Dane told Dean his plan to just go and Dean weighed the options. They had hoped that there would be fewer houses around but beach front property would always draw crowds. Every view of water would have a hefty price tag attached for homeowners. That kind of money could afford security cameras, and they couldn't risk the evidence. They might already be on film just sitting here.

“Anybody got a plan?” Dean asked. He raised a hand to Dane, “That _doesn't_ involve flying dragons.” Dane' tongue flicked.

Balthazar chuckled. “We could always parade them out there, do like you did with the tourists. Pretend they are a parade attraction.”

Ellen heard about that but thought they were pulling her leg. “That actually worked?” a few proud nods. “I'll be damned. Hell, that actually sounds like a great idea. Or tell everyone that we're setting up for a movie.”

“Dane... isn't exactly a great actor. He gets shy. And Cricket... she hasn't been around decent people 'sides us.”

“Bobby's right. But, we don't have too many options. While we sit here, someone might notice us. Doesn't matter if it's secluded here, we can't risk staying.” Ellen folded her arms.

'Dean.' Dane trilled a little nervously. 'If we do anything. I'd feel a lot better if you were right here with me. If that's alright... I mean. I know you don't want to be seen, but I uhh, people are kinda scary in big groups. Like a _swarm_.'

“I hear ya.” Dean opened up his door and sighed, rubbing the dash of his car before getting out and walking over to Dane. “This is a 'Sci-fi movie' that we're shooting. Don't tell any details. Just say it's spoilers and _do not stop moving_. Once they get in the water we're good.” He looked up at them and chirped out, 'You're going to follow me out there. I'm gonna be doing some crazy crap, but you two just keep following me. Don't let anything stop you, alright?' He got some head nods in return and both got to their feet, looking around the area again.

Sam leaned in, “What's your play?”

Dean smirked. “Mothra.”

“Mothra? That's your idea?”

“It'll work.” Dean gripped Sam's shoulder. “Once they're in the water, I'll slip out after we get far enough away from land, and you just come get me. I'll head north to some dock. Uh, do we still have some of the roman candles?”

“Should.” Sam shrugged. “Why?”

“Special effects. What do you think? So you can set them off and let me know where the hell you are on the shoreline. You guys gotta be my eyes on the ground.” Dean started walking towards Dane. He muttered to himself once Sam was headed back to the Impala's trunk for fireworks. “I just hope that these wings work for flying and swimming.”

Cas hobbled over to him so he slowed his stride. He knew that his Mate wouldn't be able to keep up with the chase once they get started. “Cas, I know what you're gonna say but we don't really have a better plan right now.”

“I understand, Dean. That doesn't mean I have to like it. So many things can go wrong...”

Dean pulled him in close and hugged him tight, kissing him fully on the mouth, suckling the worry from his lips. They stayed in each others warm embrace long enough for Ellen and Rufus to leave in the POS car to get closer to the docks, scouting out the area first and acting as a midway mark for Dean and the Drauglin's mad dash to the water. Sam patiently awaited a minute and coughed into his hand, gaining their attention before getting in on the hug action. Bobby looked up and soon they had a great big group hug. Both Drauglin's dipping in close and sniffing out the strange display and snorting at the wing flaps Dean extended to include them.

Bobby was the first to extricate himself, wiping off his face, “Ok, we doing this? Cause any longer and we'll all grow lady parts.” Some manly coughing later, and Dean finally let go of everyone, Cas was last, awarded with another kiss.

Dean looked over at his Sasquatch brother and with a wing, ruffled up the long hair. “Don't scratch my Baby.” he warned tossing over the keys.”

“You did more damage to her then I ever did.” Sam reminded him. True enough, the Impala would need a lot of TLC after all this is said and done. At least now she'd look the part in this 'science fiction' movie. Balthazar and Cas got into the backseat, Bobby and Sam in the front. They would follow Dean with the Drauglin's right behind them, chasing the Impala. Dean would be playing the roll of 'treasured idol' that the Drauglin's needed to get to and bring back to their mountain. The most bastardized version of Mothra but the general concept will have to do.

Sam jolted to something and honked the horn, “Dean! Get over here!”

Dean frowned and jogged on over, wings twitching irritably. “What? You don't get a goodbye kiss.”

“ _Goodbye_?” Cas whimpered.

“Just a joke, Love.” Dean assuaged and reached for Cas's hand and kissed it. “What's up, Sam?”

“Generally speaking sci-fi movies involving creatures don't have them wearing tan jackets and jeans.”

Dean gaped. “Well, _this one_ does!” He saw the unamoosed look in his brother's eyes and cursed under his breath as he stripped down to his boxers again. “Pervert.” Grumbling he pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the trunk to pull out a nondescript light colored blanket from there that they buy in bulk for hauling monster bodies in. Balthazar helped him put it on like a weird Greek toga wrap. Tying it up with rope so it wouldn't easily come undone. It itched like a _mutha_. Balth adjusted it here and there, leaning back and grinning at his work. “Thanks, man.” Dean said and slapped his friends' back.

“So long as I get pictures.” Balth said and brought his phone up to take some quick pics with it before Dean could do anything more then scowl. “Go get 'em!” Balth cheered and put the phone away again, getting into his seat again behind Bobby. “And remember! Work the camera!”

“What camera?” Dean laughed, then looked alarmed. “Wait. What are we using for a camera?”

Sam shook his head, revving the Impala's engine again. “Get going!”

Dean shook out his limbs, flexed his wings and strode past the Drauglin's. One on each side. They followed suit and he heard the Impala drive quickly along the road to catch up to them once they exit the private property and get into public eye. A girl walking her dog, looked up from her phone. The tiny fluff ball startled and began yipping at him. He winked her way and saw her equally startled gaze on him shift on up. And up. _And up_... eyes getting wider and wider, fingers loosing around her phone until it clattered to the sidewalk.

Dane gulped audibly and Cricket clawed up the sidewalk next to Dean. Readying herself. All three heartbeats starting to pick up now that they've got more then just a dog walker looking at them.

“Showtime.”

 

Meg and Missouri said their farewells to Jo who drove around the block once to make sure there were no suspicious cars or vehicles around before heading back towards the military base to monitor the events from afar.

Meg let herself in using a spare house key and she grinned at Missouri who was hugging herself nervously. This would be the first time she'd been inside a house in over 50 years. The last time was when she and her James ran away from their homes to escape the war. Heading towards Canada but getting lost in the winter storms and running into Cricket's mother.

Missouri only had some vague ideas about what to expect, marveling at all of the new innovations and inventions while she was away. The vehicles, appliances, televisions, and technology she spotted along the way were astounding. Meg grinned widely and opened up her front door, ushering her friend inside.

“Sorry about the mess...” Meg mumbled sheepishly, remembering the haste she was in when leaving the morning the boys informed her that the infiltration of the Base was happening. She had packed a bag of things in the living room to swing by and grab, but everything went to hell so fast that she forgot.

Missouri hushed Meg's worry and took a few steps into the living room. Wide eyed at the enormity of the television and numerous electronic things that were all around it. It looked like it was straight out of a movie set. The rest of the living space was normal enough, the lighting different but at least it was identifiable. She wandered in, as Meg entered behind her, locking up. Missouri noticed the worried look on Meg's face when her fingers brushed by the wood frame of the door. It had been forced outward from where the deadbolt had been. Wood broken but shoved crudely back into place. Her heart beat faster, eyes shooting up and around the room as her hand grabbed Missouri's arm to keep her from venturing further into the house.

Missouri startled at the contact and was about to ask why when Meg placed her hand over Missouri's mouth. Eyes intent and alarmed. Meg released her mouth and brought a finger to her lips, silently shushing her friend and opening the front door again to retreat outside before who-ever had broken in had noticed their arrival.

A muffled groan sounded out from Meg's bedroom and set her heart racing faster. Meg did not want to put Missouri in any danger. A frightful glance to where another grunt was heard following a slide of someone's shoes along the carpet. The moans stopping abruptly and silence crept along the house. Meg wanted to just take her and leave, call Jo back for help. But. The sound of that gagged voice... what kind of burglar would tie up someone in her house?

Meg guided Missouri to the front door and handed over her cell phone. All without making a sound. Missouri frowned and shook her head at Meg. Picking up a nearby statue. A sturdy metal art-deco thing in the shape of two hooks. Missouri surprised Meg with how she gripped it, turning it into an effective weapon. Meg pulled out her gun and made sure safety's off before insisting that Missouri stayed back. Missouri reluctantly nodded but stood at the ready to bludgeon whoever made a move against them.

Meg burst into her room, gun raised and ready. Her eyes went wide and breath stopped. “Crowley?!”

Her long lost brother was bound and gagged to one of her kitchen chairs. Dried blood marking out every cruel injury, some dripping and blending together. Evidence of old wounds mixing with fresher ones. Bruises everywhere. Her brother's bleary eyes lifted as best they could to the sound of her voice, softening once they locked on. He tried to sit up straighter and say something past the gag.

Meg dashed to his side, gun forgotten as it clattered to the floor. Her fingers trembled as Crowley was ungagged. “You're alive!” she whisper-cried, disbelief that they'd find him so easily. Eyes darting to the corners the second she considered that this might be a trap. They seemed alone in the house besides Missouri, who was probably deciding if Meg needed help.

Meg finally untied the stiff knot and pulled it from his mouth. Crowley tongued at his teeth and lips, pursing his lips and trying to get used to being able to close his mouth properly again. Meg's heart hurt at the simple movements. It spoke volumes about what life had been like for him since he'd been captured.

She was surprised at the first thing he said, “I'm sorry, Meg.”

“For what?” She untied his hands next.

“They know. They know everything. They're going to get Castiel's pets.”

“Who??”

“Alistair has his ways of making people, even as strong willed and handsome as myself, to talk.” Crowley looked regretful and said, “I made a deal with them. Your life, for theirs.” he coughed into his newly freed hands and said, “They'll get the beasts, I am sorry to say, but, I am glad you are safe.” his grin was sincere. “They tied me up because, well, they're kinky bastards.”

“I'm so sorry they did this to you.”

“Not a problem. They left earlier then scheduled, because I'm an even kinkier bastard.” Crowley winked past her and coughed again, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Please introduce the stunning Nubian princess you are entertaining?”

Meg shot a look behind her. “Missouri! Are you alright?”

“Did he just say he gave up my son?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “I gave up a monster. I was being... coerced into doing so.” he showed off his raw wrists and the cuts along his arms. He squinted at Missouri, assessing. “And how might you be related to the beast?”

Missouri looked livid and ready to bludgeon. Meg held her back and rounded on Crowley herself. Looking like she wanted to slap him but cursed instead. She stormed over to Missouri and grabbed her cell from her hands. Turning it on and finding Sam's number.

“You're too late.” Crowley said behind her, sounding regretful. “They are already on their way there.”

“How?” Meg spat out, phone hovering.

“They traced your phone's GPS. Tracked you the whole way from your job at the base, to that forest. You were there for some time and then suddenly started coming back home. His people were monitoring you for a very long time, Sis. I was barely involved.” He assuaged. “I only... told them what your phone number was. I'm sorry they found this charming cottage of yours.” His eyes strayed around the simple house. “I swore that I'd do whatever they asked, to keep you safe. And here you are. Home. Safe. _Alive_.” he grinned, “You're welcome.” opening his arms for a hug.

Meg shuddered away from him. His face fell. “I did it for you.”

“You did it for yourself.” Meg had tears in her eyes. Conflicted. Her family was alive. Home. It could be over for them. But. The others needed to know the danger they were in.

Crowley moved fast despite his injuries and snatched the cellphone from her hands, throwing to the ground. “You can't call from your cell. It's already too late. If it makes you feel any better, they said they only wanted the beasts, they wont harm the people. They -” he was interrupted by a solid fist to his face.

“You _demon_.” Missouri spat. Standing strong and holding up the statue in the other hand, ready to hit him again with the solid metal hooks if he made a move.

Meg stood between, torn. She shot a look at her brother. “I'm going to help them. Whether you want me to or not.”

Crowley then insisted she use internet messenger instead of calling. The gun in her hands wavering in his general direction. He knew she wouldn't kill him, but a bullet to a kneecap would sure keep him from getting in her way. Meg paused when she heard her brother get to his unsteady feet.

He said wryly. “All that quality time spent with them... I _did_ manage to glean some information.” Meg's attention came back to him slowly, wonderingly. “Such as, their trucks, places they frequent. People that drop by.” His hand waving about as if it was inconsequential, “Phone numbers, contacts...” a grin forming. He pulled out a very wrinkled and blood spotted piece of torn paper. All of the information was there. Some crossed off or updated in secret over the whole time of his imprisonment. “Care to wreak a little havoc?”

Meg's was elated and bound over to him, hugging him and pulling him over to the computer. He shied away. “You didn't hear it from me! I simply can't help what's mumbled when I sleep after some amazing sexcapades.” winking seductively at Missouri. “Care to introduce your lady-friend now? She's got a impressive right hook.”

Missouri was still holding up the statue but now wore a disturbed look on her face. “This fella pullin' my leg?”

Within clear earshot of her beaten brother, “He's a slut and a masochist. He gets off on pain. So I'd put that down and ignore him. Best way to shut him down.”

“Spoil sport.” he muttered. Settling on the couch as gingerly as a walking pile of slowly healing cuts and bruises can. There was a limit to this depravity, he wished his captors added more nipple twists to their torture repertoire to make it _fun_. That suggestion was rewarded with a bashed foot. Alistair was not amused and no fun at all. Crowley startled from his thoughts when he saw the lovely African woman bring over a mixing bowl with cool water and a washcloth. Setting it on the end-table with purpose.

“Don't move, 'less I tell you to.” A stern look as she started to tend to his wounds.

His eyes went soft and let her. “What is your name?” he asked after a few minutes, this time to give his thanks. Half listening to his sister at the computer.

She looked into his eyes. Studying him. “Missouri Moseley. And that, 'beast' is my son. Their names are Dean and Dane. And if you harm them in any way. I will end you.”

“Noted.” he grinned. “So the spell worked?” he continued after she looked up. “All they ever talked about. See, they couldn't get the support of the Hunters to go after the dragons if Dean was still a dragon. But now? There's no Winchester riding shotgun. And since you're here, I'm assuming that you split from your dragon as well. Which is interesting by itself, but very bad for them. Because now? _Both_ dragons are fair game in the Hunting community.” he looked very sad at that. “I am deeply, truly, sorry.”

The only thing keeping her from re-administering some of the wounds she bound was the honesty in his voice and demeanor. He was strange and vaguely threatening, but she could just tell that he wouldn't lie about this. He'd endured so much, but also oily as a snake, he's loyal enough and might end up helping them after-all.

Brother and sister, people on the inside. Duplicitous for all the right reasons.

Missouri prayed Meg could warn them in time.

 

Everything started off well enough. Dean shouted for civilians to stand back and after a few moments of hesitation, everyone fled once they realized that wherever he walked, two _enormous_ monsters followed. Most ran screaming, others pulled out cell phones. Dean winked at all of the ladies and even a few fine looking men before getting to business. He let out a threateningly roar and stretched his wings. Dane following his lead and roaring next, Cricket a second after that. Playing following-the-leader might actually work!

Dean forged a path of least resistance as he zig-zagged down winding streets. His wing beats actually lifting him up a little at a time. Figuring he'd practice flying while he's 'rampaging' through the streets, they glided down some parts of the neighborhood that were a couple hundred feet above the ocean. Trying to avoid damaging every street. No point making it harder for the city to fix later. Dean had to run and jump to stay ahead of the walking Drauglin's. Dean chirped out, 'Dane! Help me out here, pretend that it's harder for you to follow me then just creeping along. Like the floor is sticky or something! Claw up some yards!' Dean was getting out of breath from the sprint. The Impala finally making it past the throngs of people running both to and from them. A wide berth became available, so the Impala took up its place chasing Dean who was now able to haul ass on a clear road that was headed straight for the docks. What luck! The Impala swerved left and right, Dane pretending to take swipes at her. A testament to how much trust Sam had in the Drauglin to not crush them by accident. Cricket was last, the least sure of her surroundings and her job, spinning around often. Making sure that no humans were sneaking around. Hissing at the ones that went in for a closer view.

'Dane?' She worriedly rumbled.

'Just keep growling. We're almost there!' He fake-roared, turning back towards the Impala and Dean. Leaping forward a little and blowing off a small fireball directly into the air above. Stunning the crowd. This was actually kind of fun! He roared again, lowering his head at the people and hissing. Making sure they're safe, but giving them a show. Some memories he'd inherited showed Dean's childhood movies. The Godzilla ones were a favorite so he just played the role. Stopping himself from actually destroying buildings. This was _real_. These weren't sets. These were real people too. Real fear and awe. Dane pulled back on the display and went back to following Dean and the Impala. Focusing on the goal again. The POS car dead ahead, ready to join in.

They had been so close.

Three siren screaming black SUV's showed up and started honking like mad. The remaining onlookers scattered everywhere, not wanting to be arrested or caught up in a potential firefight. Either this was being illegally filmed, or it was _terrifyingly_ real and they were all in _deep shit_. Either way, everyone bolted as Dean's heart dropped. This was all too familiar.

Sam honked his own horn, trying to lure the SUV's away as Bobby, Balth, and Cas were all going for the hidden guns and readying them. Unlike the military which tries to avoid civilian casualties, Azazel's people didn't care either time they went after Dean. Bullets flying everywhere. Indiscriminate. Bobby nearly died from one of those bullets.

Sam shouted out, “Don't miss!” as he swerved around to face the SUV's, revving the engines and gaining some attention. Pouring out of the Impala, they used the doors as shields when they opened fire on the SUV's. Aiming first for the wheels on all of them. Hitting enough tires to keep them from going anywhere fast. The Impala was bombarded right back. Windows shattering and glass raining down on them. Sirens were heard in the distance, coming fast.

Rufus and Ellen shot off from their midway point, two of the SUV's chasing after them, Ellen succeeding in drawing them away.

Dean was torn. He knew logically he had to get them to the water asap, but it's impossible now. Dane was _furious_. Cricket tried to see what was happening past the buildings and movement and cacophony of sounds and flashes. This was her first shootout, Dane was practically a veteran.

“Dane! Cricket!” Dean shouted, scrambling to get back into their line of sight but they were so much bigger then him. Able to zero in on the action better. Bullets started to fly by their heads and they didn't wait for permission. Dean watched helplessly as they crashed right through several buildings to get to the Impala, roaring at the SUV's that all turned their attention on them. Firing everything. Blood was seen spattering them both, mixed in with some green spots as well. “No! Fuck! Get the fuck out of here!” he cried out to deaf ears. The herb bullets wont take long. He felt one graze his leg and hissed in pain. The numbing sensation taking effect already. He powered through it, running and half gliding over the debris from the buildings.

Dane spotted his black car being attacked by several larger black cars and hissed profanities at them. Muscling his way over there through some buildings. No humans were in sight anymore, it was just them and the bastards that are trying to kill his family. His mother behind him, struggling in the sinking building materials. Like there was a pocket of air under it. Clawed feet getting stuck when they sunk further in. Some impacts all over their skin went numb immediately but others stung like a _mother fucker_. Silver, _and_ the herb. They wouldn't have long until they're dropped. He could hear Dean yelling about something but ignored him. This was _his_ family too. There is no way in hell that he's going to let them die so he can run away like a coward. It seems as though his mom was on board because she was stomping on past him, once she got to the solid street again. They made a note to stay off of buildings. They'll just get stuck. The other large black cars started to back up but seemed to struggle. Like the car's had broken legs. They hobbled and the sound of metal screeching hurt their ears when the large black cars backed up from Dean's car. Dane and his mother got to some free ground, shoving aside the other colorful empty cars because stepping on them hurts.

Cricket felt herself get tired already, figuring their opponents were using that plant that makes her fall asleep. How they knew about it was a mystery, but she was familiar with it's effects. Before she passes out from the numbing herb or the stinging silver, she slowly made her way over to the little ones, crouching down in front of the black machine that held her family. They were all shouting and making a fuss, pointing at the ocean. She looked that way before realizing that they weren't showing her a new threat, just insisting that she gets to the water. She looked behind herself for a second. Eyes getting heavy even as the sting of new bullets pierced her scales. Keeping her on the brink of falling asleep but never pushed over. She aimed her head at the enemy and let loose a massive fireball. Humans ran for their lives from the inferno, rolling on the ground, abandoning _everything_. She panted heavily, watching as her son made it to the burning machines and stomped them flat mostly from anger, but also smothering the flames. Dane hissed at the still burning humans, wondering if he should just kill them now, or worry about them coming after his family again later.

'Dean! Should I kill them?' Dane shouted over, finally looking behind himself to see Dean struggle to make it past all the wreckage.

Dean heard Dane and shot a look up. He could only see Dane's back, hunched down as if he was about to eat. “Stop!” he cried out and bolted into the air, instinct taking over his flying for a few moments to get over the debris but he couldn't stay in the air long enough to reach them. The second he realized what he was doing he lost control and landed badly on his side when his wings hesitated their rhythm. Dane was distracted and made his way over to Dean to check on him. Keeping an ear out for the enemy. Dean got to his feet again and was eternally grateful to see that Dane's mouth had no trace of blood on it. “I'm fine. But you two have to go. They're only going after us because you're here! With you guys gone there's no reason for them to keep coming after us.” Dean tried to reason with him.

'Not until we find the bastards.' Dane stated firmly and started to sniff out the charred remains of the SUV's. Trying to figure out if Azazel was even _there_.

Cricket managed to turn to her side and check on the humans in her care, chirping at them and trying to focus on the little darlings.

Dean went to his car and assessed his family's well being himself. Pulling Bobby aside and whispering, “Head for the water. They wont leave if we're all on land.”

Bobby straightened his hat and nodded, motioning for everyone to get back into the damaged car and once inside, telling Sam to gun it for the pier.

Cricket caught on that they were moving and followed after them, scanning the area all around and protecting them from the sides and rear with her wings and body. She would have liked to pick up the car and take them to safety, but she could barely stay upright herself. Every step ached. The silver and herb confusing her body and mind. Sam made it to the pier and found that only Cricket was there. Dean was still trying to get Dane to leave the enemy to him.

Sam frowned, Cricket wasn't entering the water like he'd hoped. “Looks like we're hijacking a boat.” He mumbled to Bobby. “Anyone know how to hijack a friggin' boat?” arms raised to the sides.

“We'll figure it out.” Castiel stated firmly and luckily found one that looked simple enough. They untied it while Sam set about hot wiring the control panel. The 20 footer was crowded but there was nothing bigger then rental kayaks and fishing boats.

Cricket eyed the water and dove in, enjoying the rush of cool waves on her scales, sighing with relief. She walked further into the water and dipped her head under to clear off the herb and silver. Eyeing the floating thing carrying her family. They seemed to want to go farther from shore so she helped them along. Her hand came up and pushed at it sideways, scaring the hell out of everyone on board. She noticed how the thing moved easier when it was pointed forward and nudged it around and pushed from the back end. That gave the boat a chance to right itself before capsizing. It launched forward at a few more naughts then necessary. Cricket was simply walking and then gliding into the water, faster then anything from there before.

She felt a tickling sensation all over her body and slowed to a stop. Wading in the water, head above the surface and watching the floating thing move on for a hundred more feet before slowing down. The waves from her swim causing it to wobble side to side. She looked down and saw movement in swarms sweep over her body. She was befuddled by the tickling feeling and took a breath. Dipping her head underwater, she was surprised to see that fish were going after all of the shining silver in her scales from all of the bullets. Nibbling and nudging them out. Attracted to it's glimmer and helping her out immensely. She tried to stay as still as possible as the sting of silver was replaced by the pleasant nibbles. Then, just as fast, it was done. The fish left her more or less alone, apparently disinterested in the taste of dragon blood that came after the silver.

She surfaced grinning. Nature helped her out. A balance was met. She looked to the shore, hearing her boys in a different part of land, hunting something.

They could tell she wanted to go back, but also wanted to protect them out here. Balth shouted, “Cricket! Stay here!” All of them went to her side of the boat and held their hands out, saying more or less the same thing. “Call them over! The bad guys will stop hurting them!”

Cricket nodded, 'Dane! Dean! Get over here!' She lifted up a wing to wave in the air since they ended up pretty far into the water. The boys didn't seem to hear her or were ignoring her. She was scared for them but also ticked off, 'Get over here, _NOW_.' Her mom voice demanded and both of them turned to look at her but whatever was on the ground close to them was more interesting because both of them jerked back to it and tried to set it on fire. She swam closer but stopped at the frightened voices of the humans. Circling around the boat and making it spin a little in the whirlpool. Fretting to herself, 'I can't help them. I should go help them. But I _can't_. Gotta watch over these people. But I have to help my kids!'

 

The dragon found Azazel first. The man bolted from Freckles once he saw how easily his team was defeated. His first escape route was headed off by that freak of nature that looked like a real live demon. He ran, stumbling and slipping on the rubble in the streets caused by Freckles, avoiding fireballs left and right. His old pet had doubled in height and _tripled_ in size. None of the commands or threats were working. Not even the trigger words that Alistair _assured_ him would work. Promised that once his pet heard them, his mind would white out and he would fall asleep. He'd been shouting them for 5 minutes now and not so much as an eye blink in response. He was in _trouble_.

He ran first after his team but they scattered away from him, 2 actually opening fire at him forcing him to retreat. His side bleeding into his makeshift t-shirt bandages. His traitorous team discovered that the dragon was after him alone and didn't want to get between them. _Cowards_! Azazel ran to several buildings but they collapsed around him by the paws of the huge monstrosity. The freak cheering him on and pointing out where Azazel had run to next. Tag teaming. The strange thing he realized is that the freak could understand his pet as if he was speaking perfect English instead of roaring and snarling viciously. _Responding_ to it.

Azazel ducked inside a house turned trippy-hippy gift shop and left out a side door, hiding behind a dumpster and listening to the winged freak enter the storefront. He knew it was the freak because its wings bumped into displays down the narrow aisles.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!”

Azazel's heart started to beat harder. He knew that voice. Though, he hadn't heard it in years. But how? He was turned... into that huge dragon outside! He could hear the demon shaped monster go back to the front door and leave, bell over the door frame chiming merrily.

“No, don't smash this one. He's not in it anymore. And they've got some cute stuff in there. Think Cas'll like this?”

A loud rumbling from five stories up responded.

“Shut up. He'll love it.”

Azazel gawped. More rumbling, the ground shakes and he sees a shadow cover the alley he's hiding in.

“Look, you already trashed half of the street. I don't think they'll miss one little thing from a store. Now shut it. I need to track. Stop distracting me.” Then silence. _Deep_ silence. As if the two figures ceased to exist. The shadow was even gone.

He quivered in fear. Trying hard to barely breath. Hoping that the silence meant that they moved on from his alley.

He felt a slight shifting of air and shot a look down the other part of the alley. Nothing.

“Hi-ya.”

He shot a look up and saw the demon's hunched over form above. Perched on the awning of the rear door. Looking as if he had been a gargoyle on some church that decided to take a road trip. Azazel was expecting him to pounce. Leap down. Attack. But he just sat there, hands in front of himself, gripping the edge of the awning. Wings splayed a little then folded in. “We need to talk.”

Azazel backed up from his hiding place quickly, back against the opposite wall. Eyes jerking everywhere. He found each exit already blocked by immense wings. Eyes darting up and spotting his old pet balancing on both buildings. Keeping them from collapsing by evenly distributing his weight. A snarling growl from above left him quivering.

“You're, you, you are... but you can't be.”

Claws came up and pressed flat against the loose fabric that covered the freak. “Dean. Dean Winchester. You may remember me from such films as, Dante's Inferno, Hellraiser,” A chirp from above and smirk, “Hellboy. Thanks, Dane. Forgot that one.” Green eyes lowering to Azazel's pale yellows. “Or, your old security footage from that hellhole you called a zoo.”

The penny dropped. “I didn't mean to, you were...” No words were coming to him.

“I was what?” He asked lightly, turning dangerously low, “I was WHAT? _WHAT WAS I_?” He got up from his crouch, wings flaring dangerously, tail lashing behind him. He leaped down fluidly like a cat. “I was **what**? Young? Injured? Threatened? Electrocuted? **Tortured**? For _what_? Your amusement? I was entertaining? I was useful? A garbage disposal for unruly monsters? _**What**_?”

Dean stalked closer, open hands out to the sides, claws curling in the air before he forced them to close, folding his arms. A low rumbling vibrating everything around like the threat of an earthquake but sounding like a growl from Cerberus. The third member voicing his opinion with smoking saliva dripping down in huge ropes nearby. The dragon shifted overhead, getting closer. He couldn't tear his eyes from the human shaped monster in front of him. Everything about the posture screaming violence in the subtle moves. Claws twitching. Piercing green eyes half lidded but locked on to his every move. His body leaning onto one leg, as if Casual. Wings curtly folding behind his back. Waiting for an answer. An explanation. An _excuse._

Azazel whimpered. He knew he was _so very fucked_.

Silent as the promise of death, Dean hissed. “Give me a reason, Asshole.” and leaned in closer. Trained hunter's eyes flickering down, Azazel went for a broken bottle in the trashcan behind himself. “ _Thanks._ ” he hissed in his ear and slashed down and across Azazel's chest. Blood pouring out instantly from the five foot-long razor sharp cuts. The cringing mass slid to the ground. Dean backed up, mindful of getting entrails on his feet again. His eyes gleamed upwards, a grin on his face, “Finish him off, Dane!” and backed up a step.

A blur of tan and brown movement engulfed the bleeding, half dead figure. A gust of air and then that low rumbling noise became deafeningly louder. Thick slimy strings of saliva flung around in a spinning shape all over the place as the owner twisted his head to fit down between the buildings in the fast, fluid motion.

Humid air poured down all around Azazel and he just managed to look up from his gaping wounds to see a tunnel of deep red with flashes of yellowish white teeth descend towards him. The end of the tunnel was undulating black with a long maroon tongue, thicker then he is, twisting and slipping out to coil around towards his feet to engulf him. In those few seconds, toxic spray and fumes coating his whole body with ravenous anticipation. Deafening, bone shaking growls. Teeth longer then any he'd ever seen before closed around his entire body, but not puncturing it.

No savoring. No more blood. A sickening upward launch from the ground, a quick jerk upwards of the massive head and then a loud wet gulp. Azazel didn't even live to see the stomach, crushed along the way there.

The Drauglin grimaced at the taste, and spat out the hints of blood, wanting to forget about that part already, but not the satisfaction that knowing their biggest enemy was undeniably _dead_. Pleased the bastard didn't manage a single blow.

Dean shaded his eyes from the light to watch his Drauglin spit a little and move carefully from the buildings. Following his path out of the alley way and into the sunlight. There was not a single soul around. Just the sounds of the destroyed buildings settling into their new states of being. He should have warned them about why they shouldn't have stepped on stores. The oceanfront stores should have insurance for disasters. But still. He felt bad about that. Drauglin's just don't see things the same way. Following their hearts first and protecting family.

Dean patted his pocket and was glad his gift survived. “What're the odds finding something like this?” Ok, probably pretty good. They're fairly popular. Dean takes it as a good luck charm since they'd survived this. Sirens were going off in the distance, no doubt being hampered by frantic tourists all flocking to the few police cars and firetrucks to get them free of the area. They wouldn't have long till they finally make it past the human blockade so Dean chirped for Dane's attention. He tried whistling but his forked tongue wouldn't work right for that. It was still more or less the same dimensions as a human tongue, just split halfway, and apparently dexterous. Cas is gonna _love_ that.

“Let's hit the road.” Waving a wing in the air to help Dane locate him among the rubble. He was blending in surprisingly well due to his camouflage on his wings. The cloth wrap dirtied beyond repair. Dean walked out first, checking down streets for anyone else that wants to pick a fight, but they were truly alone. It was kinda creepy, but Dean didn't stop to analyze. Jogging towards the water, he could see glinting in the distance.

Dane sighed behind and above him before just reaching forward and grabbing him bodily from the ground. 'Slow poke.' Dane lowered his head to plop Dean down right on his forehead. Dean staggered for balance, gulping in fear at how high everything looked now. Reminding himself repeatedly that he'd looked out of this body less then a week ago. Then Dane started moving and he clutched onto the huge horns. Ok, this was scary. Dane chuckled, the bastard. Together they made it to the water and Dane just strolled right in, spotting his mother already next to a boat with all of the others on it.

Dane walked until he had to swim but kept his head as level as possible. Dean finding it safe enough now to stand and lean into the movement. Like water-skiing or surfing. He could see his family waving at them, and waved back once he got the hang of the huge movements underneath his feet. Dane must be using his wings sparingly to keep from going too fast. Paddling with his feet, with tail playing rudder. He pat a horn next to him for their tag team battle's success.

Sam leaned forward, good arm outstretched along with Balth, Bobby stayed sitting, the fight taking a toll on his injuries. Cas had to hold himself back because he too had a cast in the way, and wouldn't risk Dean's safety if he couldn't pull him aboard. Cas managed a firm hold of Balth's belt to keep him from loosing balance over the railing.

Dane figured out what they wanted and lifted up his head to be slightly higher then the side of the boat and Dean basically slid off and onto the deck. Once his feet touched down, Dane backed up a few feet to check him over before gliding over to his mother to talk about what happened.

Cricket giggled when her boy startled, he felt the same tingling sensations of the fish removing his silver. Surprised he barely felt the sting the whole time they were dealing with Azazel. Not as important as family, he blocked it right out of his mind. Sighing peacefully as the fish were so diligent in their removal of every bit, and even happier that they chose to leave right afterwards, instead of turning Piranha.

Cas crushed Dean in the biggest embrace he could manage. Dean giving it right back and then some with his wings folding them in a private love burrito. They could finally kiss as sloppily as they pleased.

After a few minutes, Sam 'knocked' on Dean's wing. “Soooo, what are we doing now?”

Dean lowered his wing slowly, a glare shot his meddling little brother's way. He looked at Bobby behind Sam and asked, “We got a 'Do Not Disturb' sign anywhere on this boat?” And lifted up his wing again.

Cas more then willing to resume the kisses. Childish, sure, but _desperately_ needed. He needed to know Dean was here. That they were all safe now. That any thing left on Dean's body from Azazel's fight was gone, but it looked like there was nothing. The thought of it though, Castiel felt Dean all over, checking for himself. His hand ran into something hard to Dean's side and he broke away from the kiss to wrap his hand around it, feeling out the shape with his fingertips.

“Mmm Cas, that's not quite... _me_.” He purred possessively and dipped his own hand low to meet Cas's and nudged it towards the center of his boxers. Cas tisked him and batted Dean's hand away.

“What's this?” Cas wondered out loud, trying to figure out where the opening was in Dean's toga wrap, or how Dean even fashioned a pocket. The thing was small but angular in some places, Dean sighed in defeat that Cas was now so curious to forego kissing.

“Not here, Babe. Does this boat have a lower level?” His wings lowered a bit to see that most everyone else was exploring the small vessel as well, and, trying to get the engines to run on something besides dragon pushing power. Cas led him to a room under the bridge, barely a Tokyo kitchen, folded up cot, with a table occupying the space at the moment. Everything jammed in for the 2 person boat. They sat at the table and Dean pulled out the small item.

Cas belted out a laugh, taking it in his hands and turning it over and over, eyes lit up with mirthful joy towards his mate. Reading along to the tiny print along the base of it. “You light up my life.”

“Yeah! And look! Their mouths light up!” Grinning like a kid when he showed two entwined stone dragons light up. It was cute and ridiculous. There was nothing to indicate a lady and male dragon, just two that were totally wrapped up in each other, similar to Chinese dragons but both having wings forming a heart shape.

“I love it.” Cas whispered softly. “I love _you_.” he leaned forward and kissed Dean fully, moaning into the warmth he found there. They stayed like that, entwined with each other till a courtesy cough drifted from above.

“Got the engines working, Cap'n.” Sam saluted and chuckled, his head leaned back out of sight.

The two of them came back to the deck. The distant shore was littered with flashing lights and emergency crews. Thankfully, their little boat and the two Drauglin's weren't too high above the ocean waves so they were overlooked. What on earth was the plan now? They won. Azazel is dead, being digested as they speak. The regular military is disowning the evil 'rogue' facility, which is currently overrun by the curious and outraged. Michael is in the wind but unlikely to have any power of his own. All that's left is Alistair who hasn't surfaced in ages. Likely in hiding, so therefore, not an immediate threat. The Drauglin's were in the water, and were now free to swim to the island. Problems either solved or basically dissolved. Except for his own.

Dean sighed and went to the bow, closer to Dane. “Hey, Buddy. I think it's about time we said our goodbyes.” He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the rail.

Dane's soulful gray eyes looked back at him, thoughts swimming. This is what they wanted, fought for, but it still seemed too soon. 'This isn't goodbye. Just... a... see you later.' His eyes danced to the other humans on the deck, watching them.

Cricket maneuvered closer to the boat, wings flapping slowly underwater to keep herself steady. She gently slid in close to Dane and was given room to rest her chin on the deck's floor, eyes level with the humans. The boat tipped a little until a hand steadied it from underneath. The sounds of her claws on the hull making them a little nervous until she found her balance again. She grinned and purred, 'Anytime you need us, you know where to find us, Son.'

Dean reached forward and stroked the end of her nose with his hand, bending over the rail to give a kiss to it and chuckle. “You bet.”

Dane was suddenly behind him giving Dean a massive kiss, nearly knocking him overboard. Dean scrambled to stay standing and spun around with a scowl on his face, slapping Dane's nose with a wing before leaping over the rail, crouching down on Dane's nose and gripping the surprised surface underneath splayed feet. He leaned forward to have a staring contest with one of Dane's eyes that reflected his whole body and then some. Dean placed his hands between Dane's eyebrows and made a big show of kissing Dane's forehead before backing up again. Standing precariously balanced between the nostrils as Dane wiggled them to get his passenger off.

“You two,” Dean started, turning behind himself to address Cricket as well, “If you ever need help, just send up the bat signal.” He chuckled at the blank look Cricket gave him and the roll of the eyes from Dane in front. Dean spread his wings out like a bat and launched into the air for a second as he leapt backwards towards the deck. “I don't know where we will end up, but we'll keep an eye on strange sightings around here.”

Bobby spoke up. “We'll figure out a good place to meet up. A way for you to let us know what's going on. What do you think? Webcam?”

Balthazar looked up from the maps he'd found. “There's a whole lot of uninhabited islands in this area here.” He laid the map out, showing a promising cluster. Looking over to Dane and Cricket and pointed to one that was separated from the others, in the shape of an apple. “We'll set up a solar powered webcam here. Just get in front and we'll see, and come running. Or, we'll set up some kind of speaker and microphone that will be easy enough for you guys to use.” His hand came up and rubbed his chin, thinking of how to construct and camouflage it. “Give us a month. Come to this island here and we'll exchange info.” He indicated the island to everyone. Teaching Dane how to find it.

Sam offered up his own ideas for the meeting place, and everything was coming together nicely. Knowing that they wouldn't be cut off entirely from their lives. If they need them, the Drauglin's will call. Of course, there was no way of knowing how to contact the Drauglin's, but they were confident that they could live without them for a lil while. After-all, Sioux Falls, South Dakota isn't the best place for them to raise a nest. Even if Bobby offered up his spare garage for a holiday visit.

Now, there was nothing left to do but bid Farewell. The Drauglin's swam off a little ways, looking back often and getting waves in return. After half a mile, their heads were indiscernible from the surrounding tidal waves. They kept on watching though. About two miles away, they saw a large form break the surface of the water, flipping over and splashing back, sending up a small rainbow in the mist it created.

They were all silent, but, it was apparent that that was that. Cas rubbed Dean's back between his wings and got a one winged hug in return. “They'll be fine.” Cas murmured, pulling one of Dean's hands up to kiss his fingers.

“Yeah, I know it. I jus, I already miss 'em.” Dean said quietly back and straightened up again, turning around and seeing the others suddenly looking everywhere else but him. Suuure, they weren't staring. “Ok, let's get back home.” He stated.

The trip down the coast took awhile because of the sheer number of boats and vacationers out to catch a glimpse of the monsters. Dean had to hide under the deck with Cas as company to get his mind off of things. They finally found an abandoned dock and hooked up the boat. Finding the original owner from the registration, and calling them up just as they got another ride away. Sam went to the local PD and retrieved what was left of the Impala from impound. Posing as FBI and surprisingly getting away with it long enough to get Baby shipped to Balthazar's house. The only one not under investigation or known about by Hunters.

Rufus said his goodbyes in a more business like fashion. He had to see if his house was still secure and then inform the allied Hunter community about what happened. Ellen and Jo finally returned to their home and their Roadhouse. Seeing how well it fared under Ash's care, things were just fine, if a little dirty. The odd bar brawl here and there settled with battles of wit that Ash won every time.

Meg and Missouri were already looking for another house to rent, and Crowley stayed to recuperate and help. Nearly everyone involved with this whole thing had to deal with home security issues. Namely, was their home still secure from the bad guys? The safest courses of action were taken, and after a week, everything settled down.

Bobby had to return to his salvage yard, accompanied by Sam to make sure no one awaited him. The house was trashed, of course, from Azazel's men months ago. The lot was in shambles, car piles overturned by some asshat joyriding his crane. It would take time, but, the cars were already damaged, because hell, salvage yard doesn't mean 'tidy and orderly'. But, Bobby had a system and with time, it would get back into shape.

Bobby received a letter that was originally sent to Sam's last known address, then forwarded to Bobby's, from some ladies named Jody and Donna, wishing to thank Dean for saving their lives. The name Spike was written first but blacked out. Bobby suspected a good anecdote for that from Dean the next time he visits.

Balthazar insisted that the boys stay at his and Cassie's house, since they only lived in motels and their half totaled car. Sam would come when Bobby was done with him, and then they'll figure out where to go. For now, Balthazar's house wasn't enormous, but it would do. At least they still had the POS car to get around in so Dean could restore Baby at his leisure.

Dean stood in the garage with it's ill equipped shelves and sighed heavily. Baby was banged up, clawed, bitten, shot at, you name it. But here she is, still in one piece, relatively speaking. He startled when a cup of coffee entered his vision and followed the hand up to Castiel's body.

“Hey.” Dean's voice came out more gruff then he'd wanted, cleared it and took a few gulps of the coffee. “Hey Babe, you should be inside, resting.” his fingers danced over the plaster cast and he kept his eyes low.

“I'm fine, Dean.” Cas elbow nudged him to look back at the car with him. “Been through a lot.”

Dean hummed in agreement. Knowing that that statement could mean any number of things, and agreeing with them all. “We'll get it fixed. Can't keep us down.” his wings strained inside the new black trenchcoat that he now wore everywhere. Dean was trying to teach himself not to move his wings at all, but he always had nervous ticks. Could never keep still in any body.

Now Cas hummed in agreement. “I understand your need for normalcy. And my old theory for genetic splicing... I am not sure it'll work. It might end up being worse. And even if it does, you will be changed, memories lost. I'm afraid that everything _you are_ would be gone. So, I think, I'm going to support your decision.” He could feel Dean's eyes on his profile, so he closed his own. “Know, that, I will accept you. No matter what you look like. And if, if this will make you happy... I will stand by your side.” Blue eyes opening and finding Dean's. Gazing intently, “Just... don't get hurt.”

Dean's elation at getting the go-ahead was stilted by that look. So much worry and love. “I wont. This is good, it's gonna work. Bobby already called me up and said he found it, safe and sound. We can get it done in the blink of an eye. No incantations, no more spells. Just... the charm.”

Cas firmed his gaze and sighed, “Ok.” and hugged Dean tightly. “Now you just have to convince Sam.”

“Sure, give me the hard job.” Dean chuckled. “I'm glad I got at least one guy on my side.”

“I'll always be by your side, my love.” The warm kiss slowly turned into more, and the Impala's door was hastily opened.

The sounds of needy whines and possessive growls were heard outside by a lady walking her Rottweiler. Raising an eyebrow before walking faster with her dog whimpering at her side. “That Brit guy is at it again.” Mumbled under her breath. Strange things are best ignored or be sucked into the madness.

 

A week passes, and the brothers are relaxing on the back porch. A tall fence separating them from onlookers. Cas stayed inside with Balthazar because Dean needed this discussion with Sam alone. Sam was the last one to convince. If they did this, anything they find in the future wont work. Bobby had a weak lead with only one questionable source and no proof. So, Sam handed over the hex-bag that Bobby sent. It wasn't up to Sam to keep it from Dean.

“I'm done trying to find a cure, Sammy.” Dean toys with the leather cord, tugging it out of the hex-bag. The feel of its power, dulled with time, slowly warmed in his hands. The thrum of heat, not enough to burn, but making itself known as the most powerful single item he's ever held. Dean gasped silently, awed by the feeling soaking into his skin, sinking deeper.

Sam watches his older brother slowly drag the amulet out of the small palm sized hex bag. Its soft glow brightening ever so slightly, anyone could mistake it for an errant ray of sunlight hitting the dull metal. This object, might be good or bad for his brother. The risks were unknown. “Dean, Bobby is so close -” Sam insisted.

“To what? We don't even know if there is a cure.” Dean takes a somber breath. “But this. We have found nothing in Bobby's library, or Rufus's. Or any of the other Hunters on our side. And, maybe Cas is onto something with genetic splicing. _Maybe_.”

“Yeah! _May be_. Which means there's still hope!” Sam was grasping for something. “Nothing is guaranteed. And so what? You can't just, _stop fighting_.”

“Yes we can.”

“So this is it, you're just gonna what? Give up?” Sam's face turned angry, “Think that thing's the only way out? Give up finding a permanent solution? We don't even know what it's effects might be. You just wanna give up.”

“No, no I'm not just 'gonna give up'.” Dean looks off and his wings twitch a little, tired. “I appreciate the effort, I really do. But the answer is not out there. It's with me.” He thumps the fist holding the bag onto his lap. The metal horned charm bounces and he stills, looking it over for any change. It's still glowing timidly. “I need to be the one calling the shots here. I'm tired of false hope. So I'm gonna do this right.” Dean starts to choke up, “Because I'm loosing my fuckin' mind.” He gathers himself, stills and folds his wings. Deep breaths. “I'm gonna better myself...” Dean looks down at the amulet in front of him. The small metal, heavy in his hands. He closes his eyes and nods to himself. “Gonna live with it, as long as I can.”

Sam says nothing, but that silence is a statement. He's coming to terms with this and even if he doesn't like the fact that their lives can never go back to normal, they're gonna try. As long as it takes. He repeats to himself, 'This is temporary.' but he knows it'll be permanent. His brother would be starting a time bomb with an unknowable length of fuse. Could be minutes, decades, or till the end of the Earth. Every bit of lore on it promised positive results, but mostly in small doses. This might ask too much from the amulet. This is far different the healing a broken bone or disease. This would be changing Dean's appearance and body. He will never be truly human. But so long as he's wearing it, he can pass for one. And is the key to his very survival in the world. If he takes it off, he goes back to his real form until it's put on again. But that first time, from the first time, he can't go back to having options. This is truly it.

“Trust me.” Dean smiles. He holds up the amulet in front of him. An ancient bronze face with two horns coming from the top of the devilish demigod.

Sam can't help but see it as a mockery of Dean's head. The cord resembling a noose. Dean's clearly choosing to look at it like a Christian sees a cross necklace. Protection. Salvation. He slips it on with a sigh of relief. Decision made. No going back now.

Light flashes and he's winded. His head feels light and warm, the sensation running down his back and spine. The feelings spread waves of tingles to every corner in seconds before it stops abruptly. The amulet rests peacefully on his chest. The warmth seeping into his body at the point of contact, then fades a little. Dean's spirit fades as well, looking up to Sam's face with an apology on his lips but stops at the look he's getting in return. A mix of wonder and confusion, then being overrun by sheer joy. Dean is nearly tackled in a big hug, a breeze felt on his back from two gaping holes in it. His head itches in the back, and his closed fists don't hurt his palms.

Castiel bolts out the door in seconds, joining the celebration.

“It... it _worked_.”

 

 

The End,

for now...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again! Come back later for my first original story to be uploaded chapter by chapter or if you'd like, you can message me for a link to purchase it :) 
> 
> The sequel will be more like an episodic adventure I think, lemme know what you'd like to see :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Dragon Sleeps Tonight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764143) by [nightmares06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares06/pseuds/nightmares06)




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